


Only You (AU Clexa FanFic)

by RoseBlood93



Category: The 100 (TV), clarke and lexa - Fandom, clexa - Fandom
Genre: Clexa, F/F, Linctavia - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 132,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8041684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseBlood93/pseuds/RoseBlood93
Summary: This is an Alternate Universe Fan FictionAfter the death of her boyfriend, Finn Collins, Clarke has to return back to work at Arkadia Hospital in the middle of TonDC. Meanwhile, Lexa, a brand new Detective for the TonDCPD finds herself and her partner, Anya, in the middle of a gang war between Trikru and Azgede. When Lexa gets shot, Clarke's worst nightmare comes true, and is forced back into Lexa's life, where tensions couldn't be any higher. Will they find love? What's next? Find out more in Only You.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The poets say, never love the moon and stars. They breathe life into you, lighting your way when it’s most dark, but they also shine for others. One can never expect them to admire you back. And, that’s just fine because, at least it’s a piece of them that illuminates just for you. They use themselves up so that others can shine, even in their own darkest hours. I know, now, I was her sun. Our universe finally collided at long last. And, I loved her. All of her. I didn’t love for for her beauty or status, rather for the way the sound of her voice silenced the warn in my mind with just a breath. She’s in my veins, and in her arms, I swear to God, I lived.
> 
> (AUDIO BOOK TEASER OF THIS CHAPTER IS UP ON YOUTUBE! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXvlnyLpEl0&feature=youtu.be If you're on mobile, just type in ONLY YOU (AU CLEXA FAN FIC) AUDIOBOOK TEASER by TrelauniProductions )

Only You  
Clexa AU Fan Fic  
By RoseBlood93/Jordan Thieleman (Trelauni)

 

Chapter 1  
Lexa

The pink glove lay on the ground, almost covered. Lights circulated around in the familiar red and blues atop the four squad cars and an ambulance. Their doors were open. They were parked on a somewhat barren street corner by the rusty train tracks, open to the entire city and its vastness. Across from them, onlookers from the local bar gaped in horror at the violence that remained from the momentary fire fight. Two women laid in pools of their own blood. One was moving, the other was not. 

 

Jackson, a tall, lanky man with short, dark hair, quickly slid a fresh glove on his hand, applying compresses on a gorgeous, young woman with a jawline for days. Her translucent silver-green eyes glazed over, but her pupils responded to the beam at the end of the pen-flashlight another EMT was shining in them. She lay unconscious, shallowly wheezing, gurgling on the black blood flowing out of her mouth. Her body contorted, seizing violently. The other woman, a little older than the first reached out to the unresponsive one. She thrashed against an EMT, blood oozing from the hole in her side and her thigh. 

 

“Lexa!” She cried out, searching her trembling hand out to her partner. “Get the fuck off of me! Save her first! Please!” She flung herself upward. Lexa faded into a stillness. Two more EMTs rushed to the responsive woman, laying her back down. She craned her neck toward Lexa, who appeared to stop breathing. Jackson began compresses on her. The responsive woman flung her hand overtop of her eyes. “Oh my god.” She glanced back over toward Lexa. “If she dies, I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him goddamnit! 

 

Two rounds cut through Lexa’s upper arm and shin. An EMT helping Jackson harshly tied a tourniquet around the limbs. A third round dug into her center mass, just above her abdomen. Jackson patted at her face, attempting to wake her back into consciousness. Lexa was still void of the waking world, so, he traded positions with another EMT, who quickly shoved his hard hands on her abdomen, attempting to staunch the bleeding. 

 

“We need to get her to Arkadia, stat!” He ordered. The two holding down Lexa’s partner left the third EMT to work on tying the tourniquet above the hole and a patch to her side. They scuttled to the ambulance, fumbling around, then quickly pulled out a yellow gurney. “What happened?” Jackson asked the woman, trying to keep her talking. She had long, dirty blonde hair. She was asian, wearing a button down shirt with black slacks, slathered in the sticky plasma. 

 

“Trikru drive by.” She grunted. “Their leader we’ve had our eye on for a while, Titus, did the honors.”

 

“Good. That’s good. Keep talking to me.The more we know, the more we can help.” Jackson smiled to reassure the bleeding woman. “We called it into your Chief. Kane should be here soon.” Jackson regarded Lexa’s partner. The responsive woman nodded slightly. Her movements became lethargic, yet she continued trembling.

 

“Jackson, she’s crashing!” An EMT cried out. “We need to move her, now!” Jackson grabbed the defibrillator on the ground, handing it off to his partner. The partner set down the defibrillator, flipping a switch to turn it on. He ripped open Lexa’s button down shirt, popping the buttons off. He pushed the handled electrodes on her skin, one on her collarbone, the other on her side. They bubbled up around the ends like a muffin top. The EMT shocked Lexa’s nervous system once. No reaction. Lexa’s partner gritted her teeth witnessing the men at work. He shocked her again. Still no response. 

 

“Ste yuj, Lexa...-Stay strong, Lexa-” Her partner muttered. “Yu gonplei nou ste odon! - Your fight is not yet over -” They hit her with another shock. She still didn’t respond. Jackson took over, pumping her chest while the other held compression on her wound. “Heda! Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim! -Commander, You get knocked down, you get back up again!” Lexa’s partner screeched. Jackson and his partner cleared their hands and they zapped her once more. Lexa began to gurgle, spewing her life force choking her airway. Jackson heavily sighed, his face relaxing once more. He glanced over to the other woman. 

 

“Anya, I know you wanna be with her, but if we don’t move her now…”

 

“Do it. Get my partner the hell out of here.” Anya barked like an order she’d give a badge in blue. Sirens rang out in the distance and Anya closed her eyes. “Keep her safe!” She glanced at the black puddle left behind from her partner, cringing while watching her limp body crash onto the hard, plastic gurney. She flinched, starry eyed, noting Jackson slam the back of the ambulance door, patting it before they took off from zero to sixty. Sirens wailed away from her, and Anya’s brow furrowed, helpless to protect the girl she taught since she was a blue at the TonDCPD. “Keep her safe…”

 

********************************************************************************************************  
Clarke

 

Clarke fumbled around with the letter she’s been dreading to read for two weeks now since Finn’s passing. She knew the contents, especially since the guy who had been chasing her for years wrote it, but she held her breath and flipped the envelope over. She slid her finger underneath the lip, tearing away at the top. Bellamy never cared much for Finn, making bad joke after bad joke, especially whenever he hung out with Murphy. There was nothing she could do. Finn was gone and she couldn’t focus on anything else.  
Clarke didn’t really love Finn, merely used him as a placeholder to cleanse her broken heart. She cared about him, but always guarded herself. He was steadily available, passively cute, so she went in for the kill. After Wells passed and she broke her heart, Clarke truly believed that she would finally find solace.That, for once in her damn life, someone would stay. That anyone could stay. She realized just how wrong she was after being handed the folded flag with his dogtags laid atop.

 

“I am become death. Destroyer of worlds.” She muttered under her breath, slowly exhaling, shaking her head. Oppenheimer spoke to her soul. She held her breath as she glanced down at the contents of the letter. 

 

C. 

 

I miss you. It’s been far too long since we last talked. I haven’t been able to tell you where I am, but I’m alive and well. My CO has been riding my ass. Captain Pyke is like, Bellamy, run your PT here and back to the camp five times. Griffin, that’s a four mile radius! I feel like I’m dying! 

 

Speaking of dying, I’m sorry I couldn’t make Finn’s funeral. Couldn’t get the shore leave. After Murphy and I saw him blown to hell, we didn’t think there was much left to scrape off the ground. Sorry, that was pretty insensitive, seeing as he was your boyfriend and all. Still though, I’m sorry about that. Really… 

 

Make sure you’re taking care of Ray and O for me, okay? She went and joined the TonDCPD against my better judgement, but she’s a grown girl. Lincoln is livid over here. He hates that he can’t play doctor and save her whenever she gets her ass kicked. Oh! Get that mechanic’s ass in line too. She better not have a scratch on my baby. I don’t want to come back and see my ride is in pieces again. I mean she’s used to repairing all the squad vehicles, especially after getting shot on duty, but still. Raven needs to learn not to touch a man’s car. She claims she made it run more efficient, but I liked it the way it was! I worry about her, but don’t tell her that one.

 

She’s also a bad influence getting O into the PD.I don’t want Octavia to get killed out there, especially with this damn gang war going on at home. We should be there with you on the frontlines, not over here fighting a damn war with mindless drones. 

 

Oh, I’m coming home in a month. Thought I should let you all know that. 

 

Gotta wrap this up, Pyke is riding my ass about being a “widow snatcher” writing to you instead of my own girlfriend. Right…

 

All my love,  
Bells. 

 

“Nice…” Clarke stuffed the piece of notebook paper in the pocket of her blue scrubs after reading its contents. She patted it with a grimace, shaking her head. She refocused on the hot coffee in her hand, taking that first, mouthwatering sip. Her chin inverted into her throat, frowning, then stuck her tongue out from the bitterness from the toxic waste of the free machine. 

 

“Terrible.” She groaned, picking grounds out of her teeth. The walls of the hall were bleak with a blue stripe rolling down the sides of Arkadia Hospital in the center of TonDC. Clarke had long blonde hair, rolled up in a messy bun. She threw back the rest of the motor oil in her paper cup, tossing it in the recycle bin. A few fellow residents whizzed by her, their hips vibrating from the black text boxes on their persons. Her head traveled with their momentum, practically running toward the ER entrance. 

 

Clarke’s pager lit up, violently vibrating her hip.She glanced downward, staring at the code illuminating on the screen. Her mouth gaped ajar. She quickly looked up, feeling her pulse pound against her forehead. Chief Griffin, an older woman in her late forties, turned a corner, then charged toward Clarke. 

 

“Look alive, Griffin!” She called out. “We’ve two ER patients coming in. Estimated time, five minutes. Nyko is prepping the OR. Scrub in.” She threw Clarke a head cover. Clarke caught it, glaring at it in her hands. She looked back up to the woman. 

 

“Mom? What have we got?”

 

“Two officers down. Get ready.” Abby Griffin stood in front of her daughter, with a proud, smug, grin. Clarke sucked in a deep breath. Her palms began to sweat while her eyes glazed over with mist. Clarke shook her head, staring back up to her mom. 

 

“I-I don’t think I’m ready yet.” She croaked. 

 

“Well, you better be. You need to get your head together. I know you’re worried about your friend, Bellamy Blake, especially after losing Finn, but, Clarke,” she cleared her throat. “We need you! We aren’t losing another of our own to this damn gang war. Now, go scrub in! I’m not asking.” Abby gripped Clarke by the shoulders, lightly shaking her. Clarke stared at the ground for a moment. “Clarke?”

 

“I’m fine. I’m okay, mom.” Clarke nodded, snapping back into reality. Abby cocked her head to the size, studying her daughter’s features. “ It’s fine. I’m on my way.” Before Abby could get another word in, Clarke spun on her heal, quickly dashing down the hallway. She passed doctors talking outside the breakroom and patients headed toward the elevator for a CAT scan. Clarke turned another corner, walking straight into the prep room of the OR. 

 

She fastened her head cover, covering all stray strands, tying it below her bun. She, then, walked over toward the sink basin, scrubbing her fingers and under the nail bed before Nyko helped her into her disposable surgical gown. He was a big burly man with a long beard and an intimidating tribal, face tattoo. Blue arrows swirled around his eye, ending at his cheekbone. He had a covering on his whiskers, which always made Clarke chuckle. Nyko’s ridiculous, but necessary, coverings always helped calm her nerves. Clarke took a deep breath. She grabbed a face mask, lacing it over her ears, but kept it at her chin. She then slid on gloves. 

 

“What have we got?” Clarke questioned. 

 

“Two officers down. One, twenty-nine. Asian. Female. Two gunshot wounds. One to the thigh and a graze on the side above her hipbone. She’s stable.” Nyko read off of the chart Jackson sent over with his iPad. 

 

“And the other?” Clarke asked, breathing shallowly. The first officer sounded familiar. She wished it wasn’t who she thought it was. The one that got away, that broke her heart was recently appointed a detective, partnered to her mentor. This woman sounded exactly like Anya. Clarke silently whispered a plea that the second victim was anyone but her. She clasped her eyes, muttering. She opened them again as Nyko continued.

 

“Female, around twenty-two. Caucasian. Nightblood. Three gunshot wounds. One in the shin, one in the upper arm, and one to the gut in the soft tissue below her breast bone. Shrapnel could have hit the heart. Resuscitation was applied on the scene until stable enough to be moved. She’s in critical condition.” Nyko glanced up to Clarke, frozen in sweat. Nyko’s surprised, wide eyes met Clarke’s very own.

 

“Please… Don’t tell me…” Clarke’s mind raced wildly. Flashes of her warm smile chilled her cold interior. Clarke’s fists clenched. Another flash of her child-like laugh rang through her cranium as she gently called out her name. Clarke clenched her teeth together harshly. Another flash of her long fingers, loosely intertwined in her’s with her cool, moist lip pressed against Clarke’s illuminated the three-dimensional imax in her mind. Clarke shook her head to clear the haunting.

 

The gurney crashed through the doors. The girl’s shirt lay in tatters, loosely covering her breasts. A clear mask covered her mouth, while Jackson squeezed the plastic container full of air. It inflated with his loosened grip. Shouting rang through the OR, demanding orders to lift the girl off of the gurney to the table. The doors slammed shut behind them.

 

“It can’t be…” Nyko’s eyes widened. Clarke’s swam in her living nightmare. Her pleas fell upon deaf ears. 

 

“It’s Lexa!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing off from Chapter 1, 
> 
> Will Lexa be okay? Will Clarke be able to save her?  
> Will they ever find love again?
> 
> Find out more in the continuation of "Only You"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then, you freak out, because you realize that this person may be the most important person in your life. I just want to hold her tight and never let go, but she's faded. She's nothing but a distant memory lost in the reverie of broken promise and guilt. But, she'll always be mine in the back of my mind. And, you begin to think, how could I ever let her go when I still feel her echoes? She is in my veins. She's in my veins...

CHAPTER 2  
LEXA

 

 

Lexa laid on the OR table. Her shirt clung to her skin in black, sticky sap, slathered to her trunk. Fresh bags of nightblood ran from one tube in her arm to another. It pumped the toxins out of her own body. She sensed her weak pulse pump through her eardrums as she growled low in a gurgle. Lexa witnessed the motions all around her, even while fading in and out of consciousness. The beeping of them droned out the clatter of distant shouts, barking orders.

Sharp pains pushed a pressure in her shin, slowly twisting around, then coming out once more. Lexa moaned, groggy with the dizziness swirling around her cranium. More clatter rang out, with frantic males and females crying out all in unison. She focused on a familiar, angelic voice, letting it fill the voids between the beats. It was slightly raspy, but with waves of frantic fury caught in her throat..

“I need something to stop the bleeding!” Clarke screamed at Nyko, who rushed more gauze to her. Clarke pulled back the skin with her gloved hands, stuffing it in the small hole. She slid in long, surgical tweezers, digging out metal shard after metal shard from the broken down bullet. She quickly dumped them in the basin on the wheeled table. The door slowly creaked open. Abby crawled in, latching it behind her, careful to not let any contaminants come into the OR.

“Anya is stable, what have we got here?” Lexa caught Clarke’s mother’s words. She was abrasive, yet stern. Clarke started spurting off codes and language Lexa couldn’t understand as she slowly faded out once more.

After a brief moment, which could have been hours, but felt to Lexa, like a blink, the flatline’s sudden spike woke the trembling detective. Goosebumps pooled up around her arms and legs. She shivered with furiosity.

“Someone, get her a blanket!” Abby cried out. A nurse left their side, quickly returning, covering the girl’s legs. Lexa sucked in a deep, sharp breath, coughing up more of her plasma. Her body contorted and Lexa moaned at the burning in her stomach. She tried to reach a hand toward the gaping hole.

“Lay still! Just, lay still!” Clarke’s startled, shaky voice terrified Lexa. Her eyes squinted, staring, directly ahead in a foggy haze. Clarke pulled out another shard from Lexa’s stomach. Suddenly, Lexa began seizing. She sensed all control fade from her as her body violently quaked. “Mom, she’s crashing!” Clarke’s terror reverberated around the room.

“We need more epinephrine!” Abby cried out. Nurses scuttled around, quick as they could, changing positions. Nyko left their side, rushing to the cabinet a few paces away. He fumbled around in the area, grabbing the tiny, glass cylinder.

“Got it!” Nyko scuttled back and handed it off to Abby. She wiped down the top with a sterile pad, turning it upside down, then drew in the contents of the bottle in a small syringe. The liquid flooded the bottom of it. Abby pushed some back in to remove all air bubbles. She held the tube clamp, pushing the needle through, and jabbed down the end harshly. The liquid pushed through, shooting in Lexa’s IV drip, spreading through her life force. It quickly pumped into her heart. Lexa crashed back into her body, unaware of her surroundings. Her ears felt like cotton was stuffed inside. The pressure build. She closed her eyes.

Lexa slowly rejoined the waking world, her breathing more shallow than the last time. She gurgled on the oozing blood. It filled her airway. She turned her head to the side, black plasma dribbling out, down her long cheek. Nyko noted her difficulty breathing, acting fast to grab the suction tube. He suctioned the fluid from of her throat. Lexa coughed, gagging as he pulled it out.

“She’s losing too much blood.” Clarke called out. She wiped away at Lexa’s gut. Lexa squinted up toward Clarke, moaning, holding out her shaking hand. Clarke abandoned it, soaking up another stretch of gauze with the Nightblood.

“C-clarke…” Lexa gurgled her name. “D-don’t b-e afraid.”

“I WILL fix you, just stay with me!” Clarke’s eyes widened, staring back at Lexa. She hiccuped, staring at the woman she’d give her all for, even now. She coughed up more blood.

“C-clarke.” Her hand trembled out toward Clarke’s once more. Clarke shifted, filling her grasp around Lexa’s long fingers. She held on tightly. Lexa wasn’t sure who was trembling more, Clarke or herself. Abby moved to where Clarke once was, taking over pulling out the shrapnel. She dug out another shard of the bullet. Lexa let out a sharp, high pitched cry.

“Hey, Heda, don’t you dare give up.” Clarke held her hand tighter. Lexa gazed back at Clarke.

“I’m ‘ot.” Lexa breathed.

“Fight this. Come on. Don’t do this to me.” She squeezed her hand. “I NEED you.”

“Cla-...” Lexa faded out again. The monitor flatlined. Clarke quickly let go of Lexa’s hand, pushing a nurse out of the way. She began compressions, pumping her heart. Her elbows raised, sharply pushing down on her chest, over and over.

“Please don’t leave me… Not again. Please…” With each pump, she screamed, “Fight… fight… Come on, Heda! Come back to me. I need you!” Clarke was relentless. “I won’t just sit here and watch you die! Fight!”

 

 

A FEW HOURS LATER

 

 

Lexa woke in an unfamiliar place. Her eyes fluttered open, wiggling her nose, noticing something foreign and uncomfortable in it. A clear tube set around her ears, attached to her nostrils. She tapped her fingers, sensing the heavy, snug padding around her index. She rolled her fingers overtop of it, recognizing the heart monitor clamp. Lexa’s hand felt off, so she flicked her wrists. Two sharp pricks pulled up on her skin. She winced. She glanced downward to the tubing taped to the back of her palm. One was full of black blood and the other, a clear liquid substance. She squeezed her eyes tightly. ‘This has to be a dream. Please, let this be a dream. Wake up! Come on, wake the hell up!’ Lexa prayed in her head.

The beeping on the monitors steadily pulsated in her ears, almost beating directly with every movement. Lexa moaned, with heavy eyes threatening to close again. She swallowed a lump in the back of her throat. Her mouth felt like there was cotton in it, sucking up any sort of wet. Lexa wiggled her toes. ‘So those are working.’ She thought. Pressure around her stomach and leg suppressed any further exploration. Her upper shoulder burned with a searing blister. She grunted.

Lexa scanned the room. To one side, flowers filled once empty, pleather, reclining chairs. She glanced upward towards a black box overhead. She, then, turned her head back over toward the chair, peering out of the window. A helicopter wizzed around, landing on the helipad. A few EMTs rushed toward it, pulling out a gurney with someone laying on top, then quickly rushed it inside. Lexa squeezed her eyes tight, then peered down toward her toes. A blonde in a messy bun held up x-rays, sliding them into the light box on the wall. They revealed a picture, showed scar tissue around a lower rib bone. She picked up her clipboard off of the table next to her, scribbling something down.

“W-where am I?” Lexa croaked. The blonde spun around quickly. Lexa’s heart, notably, even on the monitor, skipped a beat. It was HER. Lexa often dreamed of seeing her again, but in another way. Lexa shook her head, blinking the stars away at the realization that Clarke was standing in front of her. That, she wasn’t dreaming, and she still felt the lasting impression of Clarke’s hand wrapped around hers. She longed for her to crawl in her bed and just hold her a moment. She ached for the linger at the end of her kiss, when her breath filled the void and Clarke’s hover intoxicated her senses, granting her goosebumps. Lexa needed Clarke’s body pressed tightly against hers. For that time when just the act of not touching Clarke made her weep, like, if she didn’t have some sort of contact, Clarke would be ripped from her forever. But, that belonged to another life; another time when everything wasn’t so damn complicated. A time when she didn’t owe any more to her people. Lexa raised her chin, swallowing her emotion before Clarke could notice.

“Arkadia. You’ve been shot.” The words rang around Lexa’s head as flashes from the tan Cadillac pulled up on Anya and her, firing wildly. The three in the vehicle shouted in Trigedasleng. It was too dark to capture their features. ‘Trikru’, Lexa thought. She brushed the realization out of her mind, nodding in response to Clarke’s answer. “I didn’t think you were gonna make it, and…” Clarke choked on her words. Her eyes widened with a concentrated stare. Yet, they were soft. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. You’re safe now. You need to rest.” Lexa struggled to set up on her elbows. She grunted as she felt the stitches pull at her gut. The upper of her arm burned. She struggled, wincing. Clarke quickly threw down her clipboard.

“Oh, no! Don’t get up! You’ll pull out your stitches.” Clarke shuffled toward Lexa. She placed a firm hand on her shoulder, gingerly laying her back down. “Here, let me help.” Lexa couldn’t help but fall into her gravity. Clarke’s touch was Lexa’s sin, and she never wanted her to let go. Clarke reached her hands overtop Lexa’s body. Lexa’s eyes softened. She was just close enough to reach up and run her fingers through her hair. She suppressed the need. Clarke’s chest grazed Lexa’s arm as she pressed the “up” button. Lexa slowly rose. She smelled the sweetness of lilacs and earth on her bare skin. Her heart spead up. Clarke sharply recoiled. Their eyes met.

“Clarke…” Lexa’s silver-greens fluttered, bearing into Clarke’s sky-blues. Clarke’s filled with a somber mist. Lexa raised her hand overtop of Clarke’s, which was setting on the railing of the bed. Their breathing shallowed, synchronizing, sinking deep into their chests.

“I-I should go…” Clarke pulled her hand from under Lexa’s. She spun on her heel, picking up her clipboard, headed toward the door.

“Clarke, thank you.”

“It’s my job.” Clarke turned to smile at Lexa. “Just try not to get shot next time, okay?” Lexa nodded. She spun back around, pulling off the x-rays from the lightbox. She lingered in the doorway, flipping the light switch.

“Clarke, wait.” Lexa wanted to say everything. That she was sorry. That, she realized just how wrong she was. That, even after letting her go, after all that time, she realized that life was more than just surviving. That, she needed her now more than she ever needed anyone. That she was truly, madly, irrevocably in love with her, even still. She was so damn terrified of what Clarke might say, so Lexa chose her words carefully. “About Finn… I’m sorry.” Clarke nodded to her, avoiding Lexa’s stare.

“Nyko will come in shortly to dress your wounds.” She spun around fast, running out the door. Lexa was left alone, deeply sighing, fighting back the flood threatening to spill over the levies.

 

 

CLARKE

 

 

Clarke slid against the wall, outside of Lexa’s room, breathing shallowly as she folded her arms around her clipboard. She clung to it tightly, quaking with a small flash of hysteria building. ‘She’s alive.’ Clarke kept repeating over and over in her head. It was the first time they’ve exchanged conscious words in two years. A stream of bittersweet crept from her eye. She projected her chin, exhaling. The streams slid down her rounded cheeks.

“Love is weakness. Do your job. Your people need you.” She wiped her face with nimble fingers, pushing herself off the wall, turning towards the reception desk a few paces forward. Clarke sat down at the rolling chair, typing away the contents on her notes. She focused on the clinical matters and how the x-rays looked after sewing Lexa together again. Nurses and doctors clattered around, sipping on coffees, rushing around to the nearest room. Clarke spent a few brief moments in a daze, mindlessly typing up more notes from her clipboard. Suddenly, she heard a familiar raspy voice quipping back a snarky reply to a soft, caring male. Clarke glanced up. Chief Kane and one of his new recruits stood in front of her. Kane wore ballistics pants and a TonDCPD jacket. The girl with him had long black hair, bunched up with a clip on the back of her head. She tucked a blue cap under her arm with a bulky utility belt that was four sizes too big for her slender frame.

“How’s she doing?” Kane sighed, stopping in front of Clarke. His brow creased and his lips pursed together with an intense stare.

“Stable, now. She’s gonna pull through.” Clarke glanced back down at her monitor, trying to hide her weakness with the guise of keeping busy. Kane shifted toward Octavia. She shrugged back at him.

“How long until she’s released?” He pressed. Clarke took a brief moment to respond. She was very withdrawn and robotic.

“A week. Two, give or take.”

“Right.” Kane pressed his body against the desk. Clarke looked up. He flashed her a quick smile. “I’ve already notified her father. Gustus should be coming soon.”

“Thank you.” Clarke was relieved she didn’t have to talk to the man who blamed her for anything that ever went wrong with Lexa. Last they spoke, Gustus accused her that she’d be the death of Lexa. What terrified Clarke the most was the fact that he may be right. They played this chess game, spinning around like predators eyeing the other before charging in for the kill. Clarke was always four steps ahead, but never exactly at Gustus’ level of understanding the complicated young woman.

“Anytime.” Kane snapped Clarke out of her headspace. She nodded back at him. Kane granted her another half smile before spinning around, slowly shuffling into Lexa’s room. Octavia jumped on top of the desk, flinging her legs over the edge. She let them dangle, kicking back and forward, peering over her shoulder toward her best friend and greatest rival.

“How are you holding up?”

“Just another day.”

“It’s gotta be hard. First Finn, then your ex…”

“O. I’m okay. Really…” Clarke ignored the girl in front of her, focusing back on her work, typing away at the computer. She entered data entry after data entry. She wanted Octavia to talk about anything other than the six hours reviving the woman she loved. Clarke couldn't take it if she lost another person. She’d run away if she had to, but just seeing her face, knowing she was able to save the one woman she’d live and die for gave her a small sense of hope. But then, her entire world came crashing at her feet, realizing that she isn’t hers. Not anymore.

“Clarke…” Octavia placed a hand overtop of Clarke’s. Clarke stopped typing on the keypad, pushing it forward more harsh than she intended. “You barely sleep. You haven’t showered in weeks. It’s a miracle they let you in the OR at all.”

“I said I’m fine!” Octavia cocked her head to the side, glaring at Clarke. Clarke channeled her inner rage, softening her somber frown.

“Look, you think you’re alone but…” Octavia’s eyes narrowed and her eyebrows raised slightly, sighing softly, “Raven and I are here, okay?” Clarke’s glance darted past Octavia. She completely faded to a blankness. “Clarke?”

“Okay. Thanks…” She shook her head slightly. Clarke pulled the keyboard towards her once more, typing away at her work. “Have you heard from Jasper? Monty?”

“No. They’re still backpacking in Amsterdam smoking it up, last I’ve heard.” Octavia pulled an apple from a fruit basket setting next to her. She sunk her teeth into the red glow. The juices dribbled down her chin. She wiped it away with the back of her palm. “Harper and Maya probably have them locked up in their rooms, if you know what I mean. Have you heard from Bellamy?”

“Yeah. He’s coming home in a month. Sends his love.”

“What about Lincoln?” Octavia, lowered the apple from her mouth, studying the jagged bite marks, wringing her hands together.

“Furious as always.” Clarke shot her a quick grin. She set the papers back into the files, logging off of the computer. She pushed the rolling chair backward, placing her hands on the top of her head.

“Yeah, well he can be. Bellamy and Lincoln can’t stop me.” Octavia groaned.

“I know.” Clarke leaned forward, reaching out to Octavia. She placed a hand on her knee. “Nor should they.”

“Glad SOMEONE around here gets it.” Octavia pushed Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke slid backward in her chair, recoiling back to her original position. Octavia jumped off of the counter, brushing herself off, tossing the remains of the apple in the waste bin. She slid the cap on top of her head, shuffling it into position, reaching a hand down to Clarke. “Come on, Griffin. Let’s get out of here. Coffee? It’s on me.” Clarke took it, standing upright.

“ Please?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing after chapter 2, Clarke saved Lexa's life, Clarke is still trying to recoil from the shock of being thrust back in her ex-girlfriend's world once more.  
> Meanwhile, Lexa heals in her bed, going stir-crazy that the love of her life is coming around her once more. 
> 
> Will things ever get better? Will they ever find love again?  
> Find out more in the continuation of "Only You"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s like you’re screaming, and no one could hear. And you’re drowning deep into the drink. But then, she looks at you and you don’t mind the fall. There are just some people worth the fall: worth the wait. And, I’ll never stop waiting. But, even the stars burn out, sometimes, and everything seems hopeless. All I know is I’m hopelessly falling for you.

Chapter 3

LEXA

 

Kane softly lingered in the doorway of Lexa’s room. Lexa sunk into the pillow, protruding her jaw, staring out of the window, studying the helicopters fly in. Lexa thought of nothing but HER. She was so close, how could she have let her go again? How could she have not reached her long fingers out into her golden hair and just held her close? Lexa didn’t care that she was injured and almost died. She died a thousand deaths every day for the two years they weren’t together. She had her chance. But, she didn’t take it. Lexa clenched her fists tight, digging her nails into the palms of her hand. Small dots of blistering blood from the pinch rose to the surface. ‘What is wrong with you?’ Lexa thought. ‘Love is weakness. Love is nothing but weakness. Get better, do your job.’ Kane cleared his throat, knocking on the door. Lexa craned her neck toward him, glancing back with a tender respect. 

“Chief.” She slid herself up with her hands, wincing at the tearing in her stomach. Kane took a few paces toward her, meeting her bed. He hovered a hand over her. Lexa slid back down in the bed. He placed it on her knee, reassuringly. 

“How are you feeling, Lexa?” He was genuine, kind even, as if talking to a loved one. 

“I’ve been better, but I’ll be fine.” Lexa was brazen, sensible and not allowing any emotion slip out. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back at it in no time.”

“Let’s focus on you getting better first, Detective.” His grin settled Lexa’s nerves. Kane had a way about him that set everyone at ease. He was known as the silver tongue around the office, able to get any criminal to crack with the right amount of psychological pushing, hit with a double whammy of kindness. Yet, he knew when to be hard as well. Kane pulled a pad of paper out from his jacket pocket.

“I have a few questions about what happened, if you’re up for it.” Kane pointed toward the morphine drip attached to Lexa’s IV. “Won’t be too intoxicated to answer clearly?” He smiled at her.

“I’m alright, Chief. Ask your questions.” Lexa pulled her blanket around her waist. Kane sighed. He licked his finger, flipping a page of the notepad for a blank space. 

“What is the last thing you remember?” 

“Clarke Griffin smiling at me from the doorway of my room…” Kane shot her a funny look. “Um… A tan Cadillac with three passengers. It was too dark to get a good look. They were screaming “Jus Drein Jus Daun”, which is…”

“Blood must have blood. I got it. Please, continue.” Kane scribbled it down. “Do you know anything more about who shot you?”

“It was Trikru. Or maybe Azgeda… But the accent was Trikru. Anya might have gotten a better look. Did she get hit?” Lexa sat up higher, pushing herself to a full sit. Worry lingered on her parted lips. She leaned in closer to Kane. Kane clenched his jaw.

“Yes.” Lexa’s face drained of all color. Her silver-greens drew wide with a frantic worry and she shook her head. Lexa instantaneously snapped back up into attention, refusing to let out any more emotion than she wanted to show. “She’s alright. Stable. Can get out of here in a couple days. Did Clarke tell you anything?” Anger began to rise in Lexa’s loins. She didn’t wish to talk about Clarke, especially not to Kane.

“No.” Clarke barely told her anything about the incident, or anything involving her medical history after the attack. Lexa knew Clarke wasn’t one to keep things hidden from her, but if she didn’t want to say, she knew it would have upset both of them too much. 

“Are you okay?”

“Marcus…” 

“I need to know where your head is. If anything ha-...”

“Love is weakness. I will not let my feelings get in the way of duty. If you’ve more questions, get on with it.” Lexa harshly snapped on him. Kane narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw. He took in a deep, calming breath through his nose, pushing back the stray strand of hair that fell in his face. Lexa’s rage boiled. 

“I wasn’t asking about that, Detective.” Kane snapped his pad shut with a disappointed grimace. Lexa instantly regretted saying that. She swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. Kane gazed at her with a stern pity. Lexa bowed her head in shame. “Look, Lexa. We are the enforcers of the law. We know how to separate our personal lives, but you died today. Twice. I read your chart.” Lexa’s eyes widened, taken aback at that news. Clarke should have told her. Her heart began to race with the notion of leaving Clarke like Finn or like Wells or even her father before her. She began to well up. “I can’t lose you. We need you.”

“Thank you, Chief. That’s all the questions I’ve time for.” Lexa swallowed the sharp lump. It was like a giant rock lodged itself in her throat and it was a dull, yet piercing ache sitting there. 

“Lexa…” Kane reached out to her. She slid away from his embrace.

“I really need to rest, now. Anya may be up for some questions.” She refused to acknowledge him further, peering out the window. She didn’t want anyone, most of all, her boss, to see her lose her brevity. She just couldn’t get over almost leaving the love of her life for good. 

“Alright. I’ll leave you be.” Kane turned to walk out the door. “But, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. You’re my ward, Lexa. I won’t fail you again.” Kane left the door open while Lexa surveyed his form saunter toward a shorter woman outside. Abby met him. They were just close enough for Lexa to catch what they were saying. Lexa studied them closely, thinking about what would have happened to the department if she were gone. If Clarke would fling herself into her mother’s arms, or just run away, unable to face anyone again. 

“How’s Clarke?” Kane clasped her elbow. He had a gentle smile, more delicate than he granted Lexa.

“Oh, you know. Stubborn as always.” Abby sighed with an amused grin. 

“Can’t imagine where she gets that from.” Kane chuckled. Abby smacked him in the chest. He, jokingly, grabbed at it, rubbing the spot where her wedding ring caught him. 

“Is Lexa?”

“Deflective as ever.” Lexa rolled her eyes hearing this. “You sure it’s a wise decision placing those two together after everything that’s happened?” So, they do know everything that happened before, Lexa thought. She clenched her jaw, glancing up at the realization that her life was on display for Clarke’s mother and stepfather to critically analyze.

“Marcus, I trust Clarke, but Finn’s death broke her. She barely saved Lexa. You should have seen her in the OR. I thought she was going to break…” Lexa perked up at this. So, she wasn’t dreaming when she felt Clarke’s hand quake in hers with panicked eyes, frantically studying her, trying to save her life. “But, somehow she pulled through. She’s cold. Hard, even. I think having a friendly face around will help.” Abby crossed her arms.

“I hope you’re right.” Kane wrapped his around Abby, pulling her in, kissing the top of her head. Abby smiled, craning her head to glance up at his stubbled chin. ”See you back at home?”

“Marcus, you know I’m working late…”

“That’s okay. I’ll order takeout.” He granted a half cocky grin. Abby chuckled, shaking her head. She placed her hands on his scruff.

“And that’s why I love you. See you back at home.” Abby smiled, rubbing the scruff. “Chief Kane.” Kane bent down to her side, lightly brushing his lips on her cheek.

“Chief Griffin.”

********************************************************************************************************  
CLARKE

Steam rolled up the side of the walls from the beautiful black machines, spewing fire out of the mouths of the nozzles. The bitter yet sweet aroma of grinding earthy mocha notes lingered in the air of the dimly lit Bohemian paradise. Everywhere around, hipsters in ripped beanies and thick rimmed, black glasses sipped their non-fat, organic, soy white chocolate mocha lattes with skinny whip. Clarke rolled her eyes, tossing back a fourth cup of black bean water. Raven and Octavia sat opposite of her at the table.

Raven wore her dirty uniform with pride. She had one too many buttons undone on her blue uniform, sporting a strapping new brace on her leg from when she got shot on duty. She tied her hair back into a ponytail, letting it drape around her neck and shoulders. The Chief only allowed her to wear unregulated uniform standards because she made damn sure each squad car was taken care of, polished on the inside, out, and under the hood. She enjoyed it too much. 

Octavia set her cap on the table in front of her, lingering her lips on the froth of the milk. Clarke got up, sauntering toward the barista, who gave her a little wink as she poured another cup. 

“You sure coffee is a good choice? I mean, after saving your ex and all, shots ARE needed.” Raven chuckled, smirking to her roommates and best friends when Clarke sat back down. Octavia tossed her head back, rubbing her neck. 

“Typically, I’d agree, but my people need me.” Clarke set the steaming cup on the table, granting Raven a quick grin.

“Ugh, Clarke, always with the “my people”. Just be a normal person for once and say you’ve got to finish a shift.” Raven shifted in the inside pocket of her jacket, pulling out a small flask. She quickly unscrewed it, taking a small swig before pouring a lengthy amount in her glass, Octavia’s and Clarkes. It was darker. Swirls in the oils streamed into all three of their glasses. Clarke shot her a dirty look. “What? Its medicinal.” Octavia shook her head, amused. She pulled a black stirring straw from the center of the table, mixing the new concoction. She let the warm liquid enter her parted lips.

“Bellamy is coming home in a month.” Octavia took another sip.

“Guess our house is gonna get bigger, eh roomie?” Raven pushed Octavia slightly. Clarke’s face fell.

“Gotta make up his room again…” Clarke shut down completely, her mind racing to Finn. Bellamy and Finn shared a room in their two story home down by the suburbs of TonDC. They were just close enough to the base, precinct and Arkadia Hospital, where none of them commuted further than the other. Since Finn’s death, Clarke couldn’t bare going into their room. He left clothes lying on the floor and they still smelled just like him. 

Clarke could love Finn. Hell, she did! She just couldn’t give her all to him like she had Lexa, and she felt so damn guilty. She bore all the guilt that she merely cared, but could have let him go without a second thought. But, he’s gone, and that guilt still drives her, knowing she’ll never have closure. 

“Leave that to us, okay? You’re doing enough.” Raven raised her eyebrows, sharing a moment with Octavia. She nodded back. Clarke picked up on their unspoken conversation. 

“I’m fine. Really.” She kept her head on a swivel. “Raven, Octavia, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Clarke. You may have everyone else fooled, but not us.” Octavia set down her cup a little harder than she intended.

“We’re worried about you. I mean, when Jake passed…” 

“What’s this gotta do with my dad?” Raven hit a sharp nerve in Clarke. Her face bloomed with a pink hue. She gritted her teeth, glaring at her best friends.

“Clarke, you’re doing the same thing again. You’re shutting down.” Raven reached a hand out to Clarke, firmly clasping it overtop of hers. “Your dad, then Wells, then Lexa broke your heart, then Finn, now Lexa is forced back in your life.”

“Yeah, she’s not dead. I’ve noticed. Thanks.” Clarke pulled away.

“What Raven is trying to say is, when you’re hurting, you shut everyone out. Don’t shut us out. Not this time.” Octavia covered Raven’s tracks with a soft filter for Raven’s bluntness. She sat up in her seat, leaning in closer to Clarke. 

“I appreciate it guys, but I really have to go.” Clarke jolted upward, grabbing her coat on the back of her chair. “Thanks for the coffee, O.” She slid it on, turning her back on the two.

“Clarke, you can’t run from your demons.” Raven called out to her as she had one foot out the door. Clarke turned around one last time. The doorbell chimed overhead as she pushed the handle to walk outside.

“I’m not running. My patients need me.” She stormed away from the only two people who knew her better than she knew herself, that never once abandoned her. Octavia and Raven watched her through the window of their favorite hang out spot. Octavia glanced over toward Raven, smacking her in the chest. Raven rubbed the spot.

“Nice…”

“She needs to know, we all have battle scars.” Raven observed Clarke’s frame grow smaller and smaller. “She just needs to build a brace and get over it.”

“She’ll never get over it, Raven. It’s Lexa.” Octavia’s brow wrinkled, drawing closer together. Raven kept her blank stare, peering out the window until Clarke couldn’t be seen anymore. 

“That’s what I”m afraid of.”

********************************************************************************************************  
LEXA

Lexa struggled with the wiring wrapped around her hand, trying to pull out the IVs. She couldn’t stand being in the hospital for the past few days. She knew it was at least three days since she got shot, but to her, it felt like weeks. She barely saw Clarke, only when she made her rounds. Nyko kept her the most company, giving her updates on Anya’s progress. She could walk with the help of a cane. The wound in her thigh wasn’t too serious and her side was merely a graze. It missed every major artery and ligament. Anya was lucky and Lexa was at least grateful for that. 

She longed to be back at the precinct, taking down the gang leaders. She longed to have a heart to heart with Roan. Her black blood boiled at the thought of facing the man who murdered her Costia for his mother. This attack felt pretty damn personal, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. 

“Jus drein, jus daun.” She breathed shallowly, pulling herself up, struggling against the tearing in her gut. She clenched her jaw, against the struggle, pulling up at every wrinkle. She flung the covers off of her, attempting to gain traction. She slipped, crying out a sharp whimper. A tall Asian limping on a sturdy metal cane, staggered in. She ran, as best as she could, towards Lexa’s bed. 

“Woah there, partner! Easy now.” She grabbed the bed’s remote, pushing the “up” button, shaking her head from side to side, noticing the pitiful creature slowly rising. 

“Anya!” She granted her a quick grin. Anya sunk herself atop the side of Lexa’s bed, holding her hand on her knee. She balanced one foot on the floor with the cane, and her healing leg, sitting upright. 

“Hey there, Heda. How you doing?” 

“You haven’t called me that since we were kids.” Lexa shifted, attempting to grant Anya more room. Anya relaxed, shaking her head. “I’ve been better. How are you?”

“You know, a little through and through. I’m being released. Chief Kane wants to see me when I readjust to my situation. He’s set up my apartment to be more… accommodating.” Anya nodded toward her wrapped up leg, clinging to her cane. Lexa nodded, receiving the good news. “Skikru Unit is investigating what happened. I’m on desk duty until I heal up. I hope you get better by that time too. Don’t want a rookie stand in partner.” Anya nervously chuckled. 

“I see…” Lexa studied the floor. “So they bring in the trigger happy unit to fight the kill first, ask questions later Trikru.” She raised her attention toward her partner. Lexa thought for a moment. What if it was Roan? What if it was really an attack on her life to finish the job after Costia? But then, she realized she was too hot on the trail of busting the biggest drug trade deal: hot on the trail for this City of Light pill that supposedly makes people seek higher things. It cuts off all pain receptors and it takes more than bullets to take them down. 

She remembered the case of the man on Bath Salts eating another man’s face, but this drug was different. People kept their sanity, however it turned them into sociopathic psychos, trying to convert others to their will like some sort of cult. Trikru had a shipment, and she just about figured out who their manufacturer was. Everyone said to seek the Lady in Red, but if Anya and Lexa cut off the snake’s head, the rest of the body would crumble. She had no way to prove that the ex mayor, Jaha and his new wife, Alie were the suppliers for Trikru and Azgeda, but she knew she had to do something. “You sure it was them? Not just Azgeda attacking again. They do also know Trigedasleng. It seemed pretty damn personal. 

“It was Titus.” Anya was stern, but sympathetic.

“I see…” Lexa clenched her fists into her hands, biting her tongue. She never wanted to truly believe Titus got in with the wrong crowd after the orphanage was attacked by Azgeda. But, she never dreamed her Foster Father would ever pull the trigger on her. She looked up to Titus for his wisdom and teachings. He taught her right from wrong and he was the reason why she wanted to be a cop in the first place, to seek justice after they slaughtered her foster brother, little Aden, and the rest of the kids. Lexa just couldn’t fathom that Titus would have risen through the ranks and became the leader of Trikru. Her heart shattered in a million pieces at, yet, another betrayal. 

“Hey! Brought you a present.” Anya pulled out a thick knife. The blade was sharp only on one side, but it set in the curved, oak handle, like an acute triangle at the tip. She gently placed it in Lexa’s long fingers.

“My lucky knife!” Lexa’s eyes lit up with a hopeful cheer. “Where did you-? Thank you…” She pulled the blade from its sheath, holding the handle to where it was lined parallel to her arm. She set it down on her lap, studying the swirls of the alloys. “I should have had this on me.”

“Knives can’t stop bullets, Lexa.”

“I know… But, still. Thank you.” Lexa glanced up at Anya, smiling.

“No problem, kid.” She ruffled Lexa’s hair, the way she used to when Lexa was just a kid. Anya often patrolled the Polis district of TonDC, where her orphanage resided. She would sit on the corner with an ice cream pop, talking to the little detective for a few minutes, teaching her how to keep her emotions in check when she is in the middle of a fight. She taught her how to be compassionate, but ruthless and follow her gut instinct when something seemed wrong and the local gangs tried anything with her. Most of all, she taught her that justice was the ultimate law, and that everyone else’s way was wrong. Anya was the first responder when the orphanage was hit, holding Lexa back when she went to visit little Aden. Lexa remembered reaching out, thrashing herself against Anya’s abandon as they pulled Aden’s body from the rubble. Anya held her tightly, telling her to remember her teachings and telling her to keep her emotions in check. That, they WOULD get justice. She was Lexa’s greatest mentor, sister, friend, and, now, partner. “Hey, your dad is on his way.”

“Gustus isn’t my dad.” 

“No, but he adopted you… He’s worried about you. We all are.” Gustus adopted her shortly before the attack on the orphanage. She never quite forgave him for never allowing her to see Titus after it happend: to tell him everything was going to be okay and that she was going to reap justice upon all of Azgeda. And then, when Costia died, he became cold; hard. Clarke came into the picture and he wanted nothing more to destroy her so that Lexa wouldn’t get hurt again. He drilled in her head that, love, every kind of love, is weakness that her enemies will exploit that love and destroy everything and everyone she held dear. He told her the only way to save Clarke was to let her go, less she wanted what happened to Costia, happen to her too.

“I know…” Lexa twirled the point of the knife around her middle finger. She kept her focus on nothing but the fidget.

“It’s her, isn’t it? Clarke?” Anya clenched her jaw.

“She saved me.” She pressed the point in the cushion of the bed.

“Yeah, and you left her.” Lexa sunk it threw, glaring at Anya. “Just remember, Love is weakness. BUT, only when it is out of check. I know, it’s hard.”

“Anya, I know. I’ll be okay.” Lexa breathed. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. “Enter.” Clarke lingered in, pushing open the heavy, two inch, oak door. She was carrying a tray of gauze and a few tubes with a butterfly needle in one hand and two fresh robes in the other. Her hair was in a messy bun, dark circles under her eyes. Lexa wondered when the last time she actually slept was. She was always running around completely exhausted, giving more of herself than there was to give. Lexa loved her more for it. 

“Well, get better, kid.” Anya pat Lexa’s knee, lifting herself off the bed. She pressed her feet against the cold tile below, steadying herself on her cane. She staggered past the resident. “Clarke.” Anya left the two alone. Awkward anxiety filled the room around them. Clarke flashed Lexa a quick grin, shuffling in, completely lethargic. She was even more tired than Lexa originally thought. 

“I just need to take some blood work and change your dressings, then I’ll be out of your way.” Lexa nodded. Clarke ripped open a sterilizing pad, wiping down the tops of the empty plastic vials. She sat down on the bed next to Lexa, pulling up her sleeve, wrapping an elastic band around the upper of her arm. She slid on some gloves, pressing down on her veins, feeling the strongest one. She ripped open another sterilized pad, wiping down the bend of Lexa’s arm. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too.” Lexa flashed her a quick grin. Clarke smiled back, studying the veins pulsating against the tourniquet. Clarke ripped open the packaging of the butterfly tube, pressing down on her vein one more time, then stuck the hypodermic needle in. Lexa winced at the sharp prick. It hit its mark on the first try. The other end had a clamp on it. She released it once she stuck one of the ends of the first vial on the mouth. Black blood filled the tube.

“Still won’t ever get over the nightblood thing. It’s a rare genetic disorder.” Clarke released the rubber tourniquet, sliding the next vial on the end. It quickly filled it up. 

“You always were out for my blood.” Clarke’s grin faded from her face, turning into a blank stare with pursed lips. She removed the second vial, replacing it with a third. “That was a joke.”

“Right.” Clarke slid the end of the needle out from under Lexa’s skin. She stuck a piece of gauze overtop of the bleeding purple dot. She pulled a stretch of surgical tape, setting it overtop, pressing the ends down. ”Okay, done. I just need to redress your wounds, then I’ll be out of here.”

“Thank you.” Lexa closed her hand over Clarke’s with a soft caress. 

“Just doing my job.” Clarke pulled her hand away sharply. Lexa glanced at the floor, nodding with a wounded heart. 

“I see…” Clarke slid the sheet overtop of Lexa’s legs, then pulled her gown off of her. A blooming pink overtook her creamy cheeks. Clarke scraped up the edges of the tape with her short nail, peeling back the soiled, sterile pad. 

“You’re healing nicely.” Clarke reassured Lexa. “Gonna have a wicked scar.” She dabbed alcohol on a fresh pad, wiping away the residue. Lexa gritted her teeth at the sting. Clarke tore open a new pad, after applying antibacterial ointment on it, then taped it back in place. She got up, threw the contaminants in the biohazard bin, and sauntered over toward the wash basin, scrubbing her hands. “You’re all set.” Nyko walked by the door, knocking softly, taking the tray away. “Make sure to get those to the lab.” He nodded, then left as quick as he entered. Clarke’s glance met Lexa’s stare.

“Clarke…” Lexa didn’t know how to ask her question. “I died? Twice?” Clarke’s lips parted slightly, her face grew slack, pained with torment. She clenched her jaw, nodding, unable to find the words. “I’m sorry.” Clarke’s nod drew into a shake. She glanced toward the ceiling, blinking back the tears building in her eyes. 

“Stop, Lexa. Before you begin, just- Stop looking at me like that.” Lexa’s eyes caressed Clarke with longing. “You of all people don’t get to do that!” She turned her back on Lexa.

“I’m not judging you.” 

“I know.” Clarke held back the damn threatening to spill over. She stuck her chin toward the sky. She harshly spun back around, searching with a distant stare. “You left, Lexa. You left me! You left me right after I started to feel NORMAL again! Just… Save your excuses.”

“I made no excuse.” Lexa quipped back.

“That! That… thing you’re doing! Just don’t.” Clarke threw a fresh robe at Lexa’s head.

“Would you rather me be quiet?” Lexa slid it off of her face.

“Yes… No… I don’t know.” Lexa was perplexed. She didn’t know how much Clarke harbored against her. “Lexa, I…”

“It’s alright. I won’t say anymore.” Lexa slid on the fresh gown, lacing it around her neck. Clarke shuttered, sucking in a deep breath in her lungs. She let the breath linger there before exploding.

“I believed in you. I poured my hopes and dreams into you. Then, you abandoned me!”

“I wish there was another choice.”

“There’s ALWAYS another choice, Lexa!” Lexa devoured her beauty, even in the midst of the rage. Clarke was noticeably trembling, fists clenched tight. “You ran away like a coward. You have no honor! You couldn’t even give me a straight answer! Why?! You just said, I can’t tell you, and then… “

“I did what I did to keep you safe.” Lexa snapped, containing her unrest as best as she could. She clenched her teeth, glancing down on Clarke with the end of her nose. 

“K-keep me SAFE?!” Clarke shook her head from side to side, baffled at what she was hearing. Lexa’s breath ran cold.

“I needed to protect you and leaving was the only way I could.” She craned her neck to a pacing Clarke. She stopped dead in her tracks, glaring at the woman in the bed.

“That wasn’t your call to make!” 

“Yes it was.” Lexa was cold, answering the way she’d answer a subordinate after giving an order. She slowly softened for the girl she lived and would die for. “Clarke, you can believe me or not, but Trikru knew I was onto them. They knew, and they would come after everyone I ever cared about to get to me. If the cost is between losing you and having you hate me while still breathing or watching you die, I’d choose your life. I’d ALWAYS choose your life. I can’t take it if I ever lost you. Clarke, I…” Her warrior cry dwindled under her breath. “Love is weakness.

“I’m aware. You made that abundantly clear.” Clarke snarked. Lexa recoiled into her pillows. “You may think you saved me, but that innocent girl who saw the best in humanity died when you left. I’d have never chosen Finn if…”

“Were you happy?” This caught Clarke off guard.

“What?”

“Were you happy with him?” Lexa’s call circulated around her ears. Clarke took a sharp breath in.

“Not as happy as I could have been.” Lexa followed her figure, with anxious craving. Clarke’s crinkled into slits. One heavy brow slanted in strong disapproval, full of disgust. Lexa longed for her touch, longed to say everything. She didn’t want to give any excuses, but everything seemed like one. She remained speechless, hiding her inner self, who was dying as every word sunk another dagger in her. “You may sit there and act the selfless martyr, but you’re a liar. You ran because it was too much. It was too much for you to handle, and you got scared.”

“They killed Costia! Azgeda!” Lexa bursted without any thought. She couldn’t contain the beast sulking in the back of her throat any further. Her silver-greens welled up. Lexa’s brazen facade fell as fast as the tears down her long face, collecting in a puddle on the back of her palm, resting on her lap. She shivered. “The one person I thought I could let in, in this goddamn world. They killed her, Clarke, just because she was mine! I may have been a badge in blue then, but I refuse to go through that again. I wasn’t going to lose you like that too. Especially because I…” Lexa choked on her words, caught in a deep lump in the back of her throat. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, even after two years. 

She longed to say those three words, and she felt certain that Clarke wouldn’t forgive her if she did now, after all that time. Those three words lingered on her lips, dancing around on her prideful tomb. She had never actually said those words to Clarke, but she was certain Clarke knew. In her kiss, in the way they would sway as she smiled at the lingering breath at the finish. She never had to say it because she felt it in her tattered soul. She still couldn’t say it now, no matter how hard she tried. Lexa grinded her teeth, stopping the stream that slipped out. She collected herself back into a mindful calm.

“That still wasn’t your call to make!” Clarke steamed. 

“I know you’re just angry, Clarke, but you have to let this go. For the both of us.” Clarke bent over top of her, placing her hands on both sides of Lexa. She leaned in close to Lexa’s face, close enough to kiss her. Lexa was taken off guard, her breath lingered on her lips. Clarke glanced down at them, her chest sinking into her stomach with each breath. Lexa swam in her restless gaze.

“Like hell I do.” Clarke pulled away. She stormed out of the room with heavy feet, slamming the door shut behind her. Lexa raised her chin to the ceiling. Her mouth gaped open, fighting back the tears that she didn’t notice streamed down her high cheekbones, once more. She raised a hand to them, pinching the ducts with her forefinger and thumb. It didn’t work. Lexa silently wept herself to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *****WARNING!!!!! EXTREME TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!!******
> 
> After Clarke and Lexa's explosion in chapter 3, Lexa recounted everything that happened to her, while Anya tried her best to guide her to come to her senses. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Clarke, Octavia and Raven have a drunken night together, where Clarke can't focus on anything other than Lexa. 
> 
> What will happen next?  
> Will they find love?  
> Find out in the continuation of this AU FanFic, Only You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But, you’re suddenly given hope that, maybe the world isn’t too cruel. Maybe your fates intertwine after all, like the red string of fate… But, maybe you’re just in your head too much and it’s really all for not. Then you look at her, the flow of her hair as the sun drips on it with galiant rays, the way her eyes crinkle while she smiles. Your heart melts into a puddle. She looks back at you with those radiant eyes you adore, so full of life… So full of hope. And, suddenly, everything just makes sense, falling into place. You’re home. Even if it's for a brief second that she glances your way. You're home.

CHAPTER 4

LEXA: 7 YEARS AGO

Just like any other day, Lexa rode her pink rimmed bike to the orphanage in the Polis District of TonDC. She wore her hair braided in the back in elegant twists, weaving in and out of each strand, pulling it out of her long face. Lexa always keept her lucky knife on her person, as she had to ride past a few rough neighborhoods. Trikru resided on the southern part of the block, while Azgeda roamed around the north. The Polis Spire Orphanage was the only middle-ground, they would refer to as “No Man’s Land” in the epicenter of the turfs. She pedaled with furious footing, zooming past the markers quickly. Lexa just had to see her foster brother, Aden, before going to her adopted Dad’s brother’s home, where her girlfriend, Costia waited for her with open arms. 

It was Aden’s eighth birthday, on that chilly October night. She reached the marker into the neutral territory and Lexa relaxed. The wind gusted upon her innocent cheeks as she pedaled harder up a steep hill, gliding down the slope with her arms stretched outward, balancing the front of the wheel with her knees. Lexa’s heart lept every time the slope would push her momentum forward, coasting her down the hill faster than she could imagine. She giggled with glee. Just around the block was the orphanage, and she wanted to give her knife to Aden, hoping it would bring him luck to find a family like she was granted. Lexa felt so blessed that Gustus thought about adopting him too. Aden was her favorite in the orphanage, and she took him under her wing, like a protective older sister. 

Titus took care of them all. It was a special orphanage, left for those special few who had the same rare genetic blood disorder as Lexa. Titus called them Nightbleeders, but Lexa called them Nightbloods, as their disorder discolored their plasma into a purple-black hue. They thought it came from a royal line of ancients, much like how hemophilia came from the Romanovs. 

Titus was a kind, but stern man, with a Trikru tattoo haloed around his bald scalp. When Lexa was seven, he told her that he was born into the Trikru gang, and he pulled himself away from it because he wanted to stop the killing. He believed in his God and the Holy Mother, Becca Pramheda, segregating himself from his clan to become a Keeper of the Flame. The Church of the Sacred Symbol controlled the orphanage, and struck a deal with the gangs that it was Holy Land; a place of refuge between the wars. Titus was willing to defend that with his life. The Nightbleeders were supposedly, descendants of the Holy Mother, so the Polis Spire kept them fed and happy, allowing only their followers to adopt the children. 

When Lexa turned nine, she rose through the ranks of the church, becoming the next Commander of the faith, Titus called Heda. Lexa was branded on the back of her neck with the Sacred Symbol, leading the church and its disciples. On her ascension day, she defended her people to the death when Trikru attacked the Spire. This gained the Elder’s respect and unwavering fealty to her. Lexa cared greatly for her duties, leading her people into a peaceful existence at the Church and within her community. Outsiders would refer to her, sarcastically, as the Pope, but she never let it bother her. She just wanted to get stronger. Anya, a rookie cop patrolled that sector, teaching her everything there was to know about life outside of the faith, and how to fight and defend herself. How to keep her head about her and never lead into a battle by emotion. 

Lexa didn’t care about the histories, currently, although she replayed it over in her head whenever she came for a visit. She shook it out of her mind, pedaling faster with a grin on her face, flying down the street like a bat out of hell. Suddenly, her heart sank deep into her stomach, glancing at the familiar squad car 89. Something was wrong. She didn’t know what, but she felt it in her soul. Something was seriously wrong.

Lexa dropped her bike on the side of the road, dashing toward the cars circling around the mostly caved-in building where the Spire once resided. Smoke filled the night’s air and a scent of sulfur and blood hovered like a fog. Yellow, caution police tape circled around the perimeter of the site, while ambulances with EMTs pulled body after body out of the wreckage, draping sheets over the fallen. Firemen hosed down the flamed rubble. 

“Explosion collapsing half of the Polis Spire, requesting airlift backup,” The dispatch crackled across all the first responder vehicles and personal radios on their shoulders. A young asian girl in a tight blue uniform noticed the tiny fifteen-year-old girl duck herself under the caution tape, rushing toward the building. Lexa raised her trembling hands over top of her head, staggering backward. Titus crawled out, pointing the small Nightbloods crushed under the infrastructure. 

“T-Titus!” Titus couldn’t hear her. He slid down against the wall, black blood covering his face and robes. His ears dribbled down his own crimson plasma from each side. Lexa rushed toward him. “Titus!” Lexa’s cry fell on deaf ears. “TITUS!”

“Lexa, you can’t be here!” Anya rushed towards her, setting her hand on her shoulders, shaking her slightly. 

“Anya! What’s happened?! W-where’s Aden?!” The white smoke from the dust still hadn’t settled from the collapsing building. Small fires from the wiring sparked the once colossal refuge. 

“Lexa, don’t look!” Anya pulled her in close. “Just keep calm. Remember what I taught you.”

“Get off me!” Lexa cried out, pushing herself away from Anya with both of the balls of her hands. “I’m not a kid!” She roared with fire in her eyes. “Where the hell is my brother?!”

“Heda, keep your emotions in check. Anger and panic will just cloud your judgement.” Anya pulled on her shoulder as Lexa tried to run toward the building once more. “You don’t have protective gear on. You will only get in our way, just stand back and let us do our job, okay?” Lexa nodded. She stood back observing the travesty. Tiny, motionless hands poked up amongst the rubble. EMTs and emergency rescue workers piled around, pulling lifeless child after lifeless child, crushed under the weight of the Spire.

“There’s a kid under here!” A young, tall, lanky man with dark brown hair cried out. He pulled a rock from the top of the pile. Black blood oozed from the wound on his collapsed chest. Jackson frantically removed piece after piece, until he could pull the kid out. “No pulse. He’s gone. We need to put him with the others.”

“Aden!” Lexa cried out, rushing toward the tiny frame Jackson pulled from the wreckage. “No! Aden!” Anya rushed back toward her, pulling on her arm. “Let me go, goddamn it! Let me go!” 

“Keep your head about you, kid! Don’t let your emotion get the better of you.” Anya jerked her back, once more. 

“I said, let me go!” Lexa quickly drew her blade, slashing at the officer. It cut at her chest, slicing her uniform, perfectly. Anya was lucky she wore a bulletproof vest underneath. She popped her elbow in Lexa’s open stance, causing her to drop the knife. She twisted her arm around her back, shoving her against the ground. 

“You’re emotional and left yourself open. You were easy to detain. Learn from that.” Anya slithered in her ear. She threw her arm down to her side. “I’m going to give you a warning on that, kid. But you need to calm down!” She pulled her back up. Lexa witnessed Aden’s fragile frame dangle like a ragdoll, bloodied and half crushed, almost unrecognizable, except for the golden mop, half covered in thick black gew. Thick streams poured from her innocent face.

“It’s his birthday!” Lexa cried out. “It’s his birthday!”

“Heda, the dead are gone. The living are hungry. You can honor him later, but right now I need to do my job and you need to let me. Stand back and don’t go anywhere.” Anya held her close before letting her go, walking away to another officer. Lexa froze, clenching her jaw tightly, tears streaming down her face, witnessing the worst mass gang attack TonDC suffered in the last twenty years. She was completely alone. And, her brother and the other kids were gone.

*************************************************  
LEXA: NOW

Anya crawled into Lexa’s room, clasping the door shut behind her. She was stronger, more confident walking on the cane toward the chair by the window. Lexa crinkled her lip in a solemn smirk and Anya just sensed something was off with Lexa. She wouldn’t notice by a glance, but the air was off, like she found herself where she wasn’t supposed to be. Anya flung her injured leg over the side of the armrest, setting her cane down across her lap. 

Lexa twirled her knife around in her long, silky fingers, studying it closely. Her dark bronze hair draped around one shoulder. An innocence overtook her, and she was rendered that little girl standing in front of the burning Spire once again. Anya shifted in the uncomfortable quiet, about to open her mouth, when Lexa beat her to the punch. 

“She hates me.” She spun the knife on middle finger, then stroked down the blunt side with care. “It’s been two years and she still hates me.” Anya searched the depths of the pitiful, broken woman in front of her. 

“Two years holding onto that anger?” Anya clicked her cane on her knee. 

“She’s the commander of grudges, I’ll give her that.” Lexa sunk the tip of the knife in the hole she already made, twisting it around in her chaos.

“I wouldn’t call that hate, Heda…” Empathy overtook Anya. She gazed upon her with stern pity.

“Did I make the right choice?” Lexa’s lashes swept up and she blinked. Anya was notably taken off guard.

“I don’t know. I wish I did.” Anya shifted, slamming the cane in the floor, then lifted herself up out of the chair. She walked toward Lexa’s bed, plopping down next to the tiny Heda. She reached out to clasp Lexa’s shoulder. Anya shook her lightly. “Let it go.”

“How can I let it go when I still feel her echos…” Lexa refused to acknowledge Anya’s tenderness. Anya was never this soft, and Lexa’s annoyance rose. She wanted to be told she was right. That, letting clarke go with the right thing to keep her safe. She wanted someone, anyone, to validate her for once, rather than have the one person whose words could snap her in two, question her every decision.

“Lexa…” Lexa shook off Anya’s hand, throwing her head back. 

“Everyone regards me as a leader they can depend on. The church, the squad…” Lexa studied her wringing hands. Her knife rested upright in the hole of the bed. “I can make those hard decisions without a second thought. Jus drein, jus daun. But, Anya,” she shifted to face her mentor head on. “Everyone expects me to be void of emotion when all I ever do is feel.” 

“I know, Heda.” Anya grew tense. Lexa knew she wasn’t trained for this and their relationship, now, never allotted her to let out what was slowly killing her. There were too many important elements at play than for small talk of feelings. “I know you’re terrified. After Azgeda with Costia, I see why you wanted to distance yourself, especially on THIS case.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Lexa sharply exhaled, increasingly growing uncomfortable.

“No.” Anya pulled on Lexa’s hand, studying the pinches and tiny cuts from the pattern of her nails in the palm of her hand. She shighed. “Lexa, you love her.” She spoke so matter of fact. She didn’t sugar coat it, nor did she allow Lexa any room to question her observation. Lexa merely bit her lip.

“I had to let her go. I…”

“How stupid can you be?” Anya never let out her own emotion, and it frightened Lexa. Anya was always the source to go to whenever Lexa needed to snap back into reality and finish a job, but this time, she didn’t. It terrified her for what she might say. “Clarke is a warrior in her own right. She saves her people, just like you. She makes the hard decisions, just like you. I see the way you look at her. She’s your everything, Lexa.”

“She was happy, Anya. Who the hell am I to stand in the way when she was happy?” Lexa refused to look at Anya, fidgeting with her fingers like a typical nervous girl. Lexa never did this. She explored her hopelessness, swallowing the lump building. Lexa didn’t know if it was the medicine, or everything finally catching up to her when face to face with the love of her life, but she wanted to swallow it back down into the pits of her loins. She wanted to be done with it and just move on.

“WAS.” The word swam around the room, filling the voids of the quiet drum of the buzzing overhead lights. “Finn is dead, and she’s lost. She needs you.”

“You’ve been talking with the Chief, haven’t you?” Anya finally caught Lexa’s attention. She raised her chin with a grimace. Lexa didn’t want the Chief to know about her weakness. She was the youngest detective on the force, and knowing that his step-daughter was the reason for her torment broke the last nerve in her.

“Her step-father is worried. I know Gustus doesn’t trust her, and you’ve bad blood ever since, but…”

“Shof op, Anya.” Lexa snapped.

“She won’t abandon you like you abandoned her.”

“EM PLENI!” Lexa’s roar reverberated around the room. Her child-like voice lingered in a husk like an alpha wolf snapping at a young pup trying to go in for the first feast of the fresh kill. “Love is weakness. I won’t let my personal feelings get in the way.” 

“You say that, Lexa, but love is weakness ONLY when it’s out of check.” Anya stood up, pressing herself against the cane, drawing closer to Lexa’s face. Lexa recoiled. “You’re hopeless, Heda. You’ve been given a second chance. At life. At the mission. At love… Don’t waste it. Someone else just might swoop in and take her again while you’re still licking your wounds.” Anya set herself upright, peering down at Lexa in her bed at the edge of her nose. “Gotta run. Chief is debriefing me on the intel Indra provided about the Trikru attack.”

“I should be there.” Lexa whispered, ashamed of what she let go, especially to Anya. She wasn’t fine, but she built up her wall and distanced herself from her outburst.

“You should rest. Let someone else take care of you for a change.” Anya staggered toward the door. “Send for me if you need me, partner.” She left Lexa alone to stew in her thoughts. She couldn’t get Clarke out of her head, pressing the ball of her hand between her eyes. She let out a crippling sigh, laying back down in her bed, closing them to fall asleep. 

*****************************************

 

LEXA 4 YEARS AGO

“I’m home!” Lexa called out in her dark apartment, unbuttoning her uniform as she set her keys down in the crystal bowl at the entrance of the residence. It was quiet, like most other nights. Lexa sighed as she unbuckled her utility belt, taking her shirt off. She wore a white wife-beater underneath, clinging closely to her hips. She set the blue shirt and belt on the back of a black, reclining chair, rubbing the back of her neck. Costia must be in the shower, but the water isn’t running.’ Lexa thought as she couldn’t spot her. “I had a hell of a day.” She called out. “Ran into some Azgeda junkies. They pulled a knife, but I apprehended them just fine.” Lexa sauntered over toward the fridge. The light blinded her in the midst of the darkness. She pulled out a beer, cracking the top off with her hands, knocking back a swig. She let the carbonated bitter beverage fill her mouth, swallowing the tickle sliding down her throat.

“Can’t say I blame them for wanting an escape from this damn war, but I promised Titus I would bring them to justice. For Aden.” Lexa continued. The room was still. She trudged toward the armchair in front of the dark television, plopping down. She kicked her feet up on the coffee table. A sticky wet covered her bottom half, soaking through her pants. “What the hell?!” Lexa dabbed her fingers in it, bringing it close to her face. It was too dark to see what it was. She stuck the tip of her finger to her tongue. Blood.

Lexa jolted up, quick as she could. Her entire back was covered in it, soiling her once white, cotton shirt in a pink slather of human paint. “C-Costia?!” She cried out. “Did you start your monthlies, Babe?” There was no reply. Lexa moved her hand across the entire chair. It was completely drenched. A stampede of terror ran rampant as her heart sunk to the bottom of her stomach. Sudden shuffling rang through the apartment and Lexa rushed toward the hallway. A giant man with facial scarring in “x’s” by his brown eyes stood nose to nose with her. He slanted his eyes and Lexa scuttled back towards her utility belt. She lept over the coffee table, popping the button on the holster of her pistol pulling out her issued M9. “Who the fuck are you and why are you in my apartment?!” The man paced back and forth, like a wolf on the prowl. He had a luscious, groomed beard. 

“Mind pointing that thing somewhere else?” His husky voice was deep and soothing. Lexa was relentless. She held her focus on him. “Look, it was nothing personal. Just sent to give you a message.”

“Roan kom Azgeda…” Lexa held both hands on the pistol. “Hands where I can see them!” Roan raised both of his hands, lacing his fingers together behind his head. He stood still, standing like a fortified tower against a single cannon on the firing line. “What is your message?”

“My mother sends her regards.” He released one of his hands, gesturing toward the bloody chair in the living room. Lexa spun around, quickly, keeping the gun on Roan. 

“Where’s Costia?!” Lexa growled, switching off the safety. 

“Sleeping, where I left her.” Roan lowered his hands. Lexa’s arms wavered, lowering the gun. She rushed past Roan, flinging herself through the room. “It was nothing personal.” Roan rushed out of the apartment, with a light foot. Lexa didn’t care. ‘Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay!’ Lexa thought, flicking on the lights. At the foot of her bed rested Costia. 

“C-Costia?” She was laying face down, curved with the angle on the floor. Lexa was quiet for a moment, then glanced up at the bed. In between the cushions of the pillows rested the head of her beloved. Lexa couldn’t quite comprehend what it was. It had to have been fake. It had to. She knelt down by her body, shaking her leg. “Costia, get up!” She curled herself around, noting her headless stump at the shoulders. Lexa flung herself back on her hands and knees, in a furious quake. “This can’t be happening. This is a dream! Wake up, Heda! Wake the fuck up!” She pushed herself up to the bed where Costia’s head laid. It was swollen, eyes glazed over with a jagged ends of gew jiggling with each movement. Her mouth was open and her braided hair in tatters. 

“Oh, God…” Lexa’s hand flocked to her face. She quickly bent over, expelling the contents of her lunch on the opposite end of the bed, fumbling for her phone. She barely thumbed the fateful 911. Blood smeared on the screen. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” The operator was cool and collected. 

“T-this is-oh God… This is Officer Lexa Woods badge 89, requesting emergency services off of Lincoln. My Girlfriend… She… Oh my God!” Lexa dropped the phone. A voice called out from the silver screen. 

“Officer Woods, please state your address.” Lexa refused to pick up the phone. “Officer Woods, please respond.” Lexa picked up her M9, her hands quaking. She set against the wall with her head in her hand, her knees to her chest. “Officer Woods, backup is on the way.” Lexa raised the barrel of the pistol to the under of her chin, thick raindrops streaming from her sorrow. She grinded her jaw, quivering, pushing it further in the hollow of her jaw. She cried out in agony, finger close to the trigger. Just one pull and it would all be over. She screamed a furious roar. Lexa dropped it between her thighs. Her quaking hands flooded to her head, filling them with tufts of her hair. Her breath shortened, gulping down the air shallowly filling her lungs. She couldn’t get enough of it. She leaned over, expelling the remainder of the contents in her stomach. Lexa shut her eyes, covering her ears with long fingers. Her beloved’s blood lingered around her temples.

After a few minutes of hyperventilation, Lexa crawled on her hands and knees, meeting the bed, climbing up on top. She was timid, meeting the remains of her fiance. She pulled Costia’s head from the bedding, closing her eyes and shutting her jaw. She held it close, pulling Costia’s forehead to hers. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so so sorry!” She whimpered. “I-I’m so sorry, baby. I…” She lay there, drenched in Costia’s blood, rocking back and forth until Anya and the paramedics arrived. Anya stormed into her room like a bulldozer. She drank in Lexa’s sorrow, stunned to what she walked in on. Anya glided over, carefully placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“Lexa…” Anya’s sympathy was like a circuit, transmitting from her body through her touch down to Lexa. Lexa trembled harder than she ever had. “Hey, Heda. I’ve got you.” She sat next to her, pulling her arms completely around Lexa. “I’ve got you.”

“NO!” A blood curdling cry crippled from Lexa’s lip. She clung on tighter in her mangled agony. She quaked with a grey aura looming around her. Her hands were cold, her body drenched, but she didn’t care. Her entire universe crashed at her swollen feet, stopping upon her throat as she gasped for breath. She couldn’t hold on to her. She couldn’t hold onto anything. Yet another person slipped through her fingertips like sand. And, it was all thanks to Azgeda. Anya peeled her talons from Costia’s head, setting her glazed, broken soul upright. 

“Lexa, hey… What happened?” Anya softly breathed into Lexa’s ear. Lexa didn’t even acknowledge her. “Hey, Heda. What happened?”

“Azgeda…” Lexa’s stare was distant. She gritted her fangs tight. Her blood boiled in unrelenting, ruthless rage. Her face fell slack. Silent salty tears streamed, collecting on the red bloom in the center of her shirt, distorting it into a pink. “I’ll kill them.” Anya softened, clenching her tighter. “I’ll kill them all.” She faced Anya with a brazen fury.

“Lexa?” Anya’s worry overtook her. She saw something new in the Heda she never thought was possible. Lexa’s silver-greens reverted to a fury like the sea before a storm. She was cold, distant even. Her childlike state changed into one of a cold blooded murder. There was no remorse. There was only hate.

“Jus drein, jus daun.”

********************************************************************************************************  
NOW  
CLARKE

Clarke, Raven and Octavia all sat on the floor with three empty six packs laying at their feet. They slumped over on the island in the middle of the kitchen. The granite countertops were lined with half empty bottles of wine and a few too many mismatched corks. Octavia hiccuped as she took another swig, laying her head on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke pressed the rim of the bottle against her lips, pulling it up to her nose, gulping down the foamy, bitter, brew. Raven cracked open yet another one, spilling some on her chest. She chuckled when the drops met her skin. It was late. So, very late.

Raven, Octavia and Clarke all wore their hair down for the night. Clarke’s ran wild, Her pink strands were prominent against her platinum blonde. At work, she had to tuck them into her messy bun, but at home, she let them fly free. She pushed her thick, black rimmed glasses up on her nose. Raven’s hair waved lightly at the bend of where she would pull her hair up. She set her ponytail holder between her lips, filling her hands with tufts of her hair, lacing it back in position. Octavia let hers drape around her slender shoulders. All three of them wore plaid pajama pants and a matching tank top. Octavia loved her blue and black checkers with a navy blue tank, Clarke’s were red and grey while Raven’s were green and brown. All three loved matching as a way of comradery with one another.

“You were right…” Clarke spoke with a glazed stare in the direction of the living room. It housed two couches, a loveseat and a giant, 100 inch, ultraHD flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. Clarke’s drawings lined the rooms with portraits of each housemate.

“What?” Octavia perked up. She pulled her head off of Clarke’s shoulder, sitting upright.

“Griffin say WHAAT?” Raven chuckled with a slight hiccup. She turned to face her flatmate.

“I snapped… On Lexa.” Clarke pressed the lip of the bottle to hers, sucking down another gulp of the amber intoxicant.

“Wait, wait, wait! Tell us everything! Leave nothing out!” Raven shifted her entire body in front of Clarke, moving her shoulders in a kind of dance. Octavia shifted slightly as well. 

“It was uncalled for. She was just there and it all came out. I couldn’t stop myself.” Clarke raised her hands in front of her, dropping them on her knees. Her feet were firmly planted on the floor.

“Clarke, she left you! You saved her life. I’d say you’re due to bitch her out.” Raven sighed.

“It wasn’t the time or the place.” Clarke anchored her attention forward, unable to look at her two flatmates. She could barely even say the words. She exhaled sharply, lingering on her words. They filled the voids in her head, swimming around and then dissipated. 

“What did she say?” Octavia filled the anxious void. She reached toward Clarke, lingering a hand on her knee. Raven practically danced in her resting spot.

“Ooo did she give some half-hearted excuse? Bat those ridiculously long lashes at you and feed you lines of bullshit?” 

“No… She apologized.” Clarke’s sky blues were faded, like the sky before a lightning storm. They swam around, surveying the room before landing focus on Raven. “She said she’d rather me hate her and be alive than dead like her ex.”

“I don’t blame her.” Everyone turned their attention to Octavia. She chugged the rest of the liquid in her bottle before crossing her legs. She pressed her hands on her knees to steady herself as she rose, leaving the two for a short trek to the fridge. She pulled out another six pack, bringing it forth to the group. She slowly sat back down, popping one open with the palm of her hand. She took a long gulp, chugging half of the bottle before continuing. “When Atom was in that factory accident and brought to your OR, I wanted to blame you for not being able to save him. I so wanted to blame you, and that was to deal with my own grief. I know, now, that you did everything you could.” She burned a hole in Clarke, who’s parted lips and astounded stare begged Octavia to continue her thought. “Then, I found Lincoln. I was scared he’d die too, especially as a combat medic. I pushed him away, but he only pulled me closer.”

“O… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.” Clarke nodded, her focus drawing in close to Octavia. She felt more awful than she had before.  
“Stop, apologizing, Clarke.” This shocked Clarke. “The burdens of the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders any more than the rest of us. It’s not your fault. I know that now. You saved him from a long painful death by pulling that plug.” Octavia placed a reassuring hand on Clarke’s knee. 

“I’m still sorry.”

“God, apologizing for everything? You and Lexa sure are soulmates.” Raven was careless. Clarke’s pang of torture lit up her aura. She wanted to run away, avoid the questions, and just drink up. She was out of her league, and she had no more fight left in her when it came to Lexa. Lexa was her heart, her home and her soul. She broke her heart and she gave Clarke mixed signals. For the first time in forever, Clarke knew Lexa still loved her, and it made her want to die even more for it. The guilt was just too damn strong. Raven cleared her throat. “I blamed you too, you know. For Finn.”

“I know.” Clarke nodded. “ I encouraged him to take up that last mission instead of waiting it out until Bellamy and Murphy came home. He had the choice to wait and let someone else go, or go and come home a few weeks sooner. I just wanted to see him. It’s all my fault.” She set her head in her hands, fighting back the flooding, threatening to spill over the dam.

“I was so angry that you swooped in on my ex-boyfriend. I blamed you because I did think you got him killed. I know that wasn’t true, now. It was just so easy to blame you. You let everyone blame you so they stop hating themselves. I’m sorry, Clarke. I’m so, so sorry.” Raven set her hands on Clarke’s shoulders. She was quiet, unsmiling. This wasn’t the same carefree Raven. Clarke felt awkward. 

“I just care…”

“Too much!” Raven filled in the blanks.

“Lexa and I…” Clarke bit her tongue, replaying their entire conversation in her head, once more. “I just don’t know.” Octavia clanked her bottle, finishing off her fourth beer, throwing it to the side before pulling out a fifth. 

“She’s an unfeeling asshole, is what she is!” She slurred her words. “All of this “love is weakness” bullshit. You know what, you deserve better than that bitch.” Octavia pointed at Clarke, practically falling over. She caught herself in her increased intoxicated state. 

“I know she didn’t mean to…”

“Why am I not surprised you’re still defending her.” Octavia croaked. “ I say, she betrayed you once, she’ll betray you again! Just don’t do it.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Raven and Octavia nodded to one another, clinking glasses. Clarke audibly sighed. 

“Ooo!” Octavia threw up her hand, in a ‘one minute’ motion, taking another swig. She let the bottle fall from her lips. “What about that nice girl who comes in for deliveries?”

“Niylah?”

“Yeah, her!” Raven perked up. “She keeps giving you them eyes!”

“Plus, she’s a babe.” Octavia chimed in.

“She wants to take a ride on the Griffin Express!” Raven taunted.

“Wants to climb the hills of Mt. Griffin.” Octavia added.

“Wants to ride the Griffin Pony!”

“Okay, okay!” Clarke threw her hands up in surrender. “Enough!” She glared at them both, completely steadfast. “Fine… One date.”

“Whoo, whoot!” Raven cheered. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“One! I’m not ready yet, but one, okay?”

“Yess!” Raven let out a drunken, celebratory fist pump. 

“Text her!” Octavia reached her body across the floor toward Clarke’s phone on the charge. She yanked her lightning cable out of the port, tossing it at Clarke’s head. Clarke caught it with nervous vigor. 

“Yes, text, text, text, text, text!” Raven fist pumped in time, pressuring one of her best friends into something they all knew she wasn’t ready for, but desperately needed. Clarke increasingly grew more annoyed with each pump.

“Alright, alright! I’m texting.” She unlocked her screen, thumbing through her contacts list to the quiet supply girl’s number. Clarke shuttered. Lexa consumed her and the thought of if she was making the right choice, drifted throughout her mind. Her gut told her this was wrong, but she knew she needed to get back out on her feet. She needed to forget the one girl who made her heart soar. The matter of which depended on the spelling. 

Clarke clicked on Niylah’s name, filling out the “text message” box with uneasy letters. She felt distant, cold, but hopeful. She knew Niylah pined after her for months, but she finally made the step. 

“Hey, Niylah. It’s Clarke Griffin from Arkadia Hospital. I just wondered if you wanted to go out sometime.” Clarke pressed the send button, staring at the lit up silver screen. Suddenly, a flash of three dots bubbled on the recieving end. 

“Sure thing! Tomorrow? Pick me up at 8?” Niylah replied. 

“You got it. See you then ;)” Clarke set her phone down, glancing back up at her eager comrades. Raven practically bit her fingernails awaiting her reply. 

“Well?”

“Its confirmed. Tomorrow at eight.” Clarke shook her head. She wasn’t ready, but she gave in. She quickly changed the direction of the converstation. “I’m hungry. Who wants pizza?”

“Already ahead of you! Ordered it fifteen minutes ago.” Octavia flexed, jokingly.

“And that is why you’re my hero!” Raven bowed in a “we’re not worthy” stance. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Please.” Octavia scoffed. “I’m everyone’s hero!” The three clinked their glasses against one another, finishing their brews before climbing atop the counter, staggering around. They poured wine in their glasses and enjoyed the rest of their evening.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their fight, Clarke decided to go out on a date with Niylah.  
> Did it go okay?  
> Will Lexa find out?
> 
> Will Clarke and Lexa just kiss already?!
> 
> Find out more in the continuation of the AU Fan Fiction, Only You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missing you comes in waves. It bobs to and fro in the riptide. For the most part, I keep my head above the water. But tonight, I’m drowning.

CHAPTER 5  
CLARKE: 2 1/2 Years Ago

 

“Wanheda.” Lexa rolled her long fingers throughout Clarke’s, sitting on the floor against a wall. They were soft, delicate interweaving one another in a ballet of mutual love and respect. A few pillar candles lit up the dimly lit room, cascading their slender frames around in shadow. Clarke sat between Lexa’s long legs, pressing her back in her torso. It was soft, warm and inviting. Clarke experienced Lexa’s life with the rise and fall of her chest. She shifted slightly into a more comfortable position. Clarke noted Lexa’s breath shorten and her heart pulsed faster in her back. Lexa cradled her head in Clarke’s neck, pressing her cool lip at the bottom of her ear. Clarke invited her to continue.

Lexa paused to send a cascade of her silver-green’s down at Clarke. Clarke rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder. Their legs interlocked together. Clarke peeked upward with an amused grin. Lexa craned her neck down, gliding her cool, moist lips against Clarke’s. They stuck together as Lexa drew away, slowly stretching upward. Clarke trailed with her. Lexa lunged down for another, resting her free hand against Clarke’s jaw, grazing her nose across Lexa’s. Clarke slightly opened her mouth with a grin, coming back for another taste. Lexa granted her a half-cocky smile. 

Clarke had just changed from her scrubs to one of Lexa’s long, button down dress shirts. She left one too many undone without any undergarments beneath. It had a tendency to drape around her shoulders in certain positions. She pulled her hair down, but kept her two pink strands tied behind her head, pulling her bangs out of her face. With Lexa, they wouldn’t stay in place for very long, and she didn’t mind. 

“What?” She was puzzled by this new word. Lexa drug herself up, readjusting against the wall. Her hair was draped around her shoulders instead of its normal braid for work. She wore one of her light grey button down dress shirts, the arms rolled up to three quarters. Lexa honored Clarke by wearing her father’s watch. Clarke gave it to her when she asked her to marry her. Lexa’s navy blue jeans crinkled with the movement, her knee high boots creaked. Clarke twisted herself around and held onto her waist, rubbing her face within her chest. Clarke unbuttoned two buttons with her teeth, gleaming back at her beloved. Lexa smiled with a tiny laugh. 

“Wanheda. It means the commander of death in Trigedasleng.” Lexa used her free hand to stroke Clarke’s hair out of her eyes. She came down for another kiss. Clarke felt uneasy by this new title. She recoiled before Lexa could meet her.

“Why would you call me that?” Clarke pulled herself up, holding herself with her arm between Lexa’s legs. Her shirt slid around her shoulder. Lexa was caught in a blooming blush. Clarke crawled closer to Lexa, sitting on her hands and knees between Lexa’s legs. She came in close, stroking Lexa’s hair back. She gingerly glided her lower lip on Lexa’s collarbone, trailing up her long neck, ending at her ear. Goosebumps formed on Lexa’s arms. Her hair stood on end. Clarke set her hand on the inner of her thigh.

“Well,” she squeaked. “You’re a doctor.” Lexa deeply breathed, unable to focus. “And, I know you had to pull that plug on your friend.” She focused her attention overtop of Clarke’s head. Clarke tugged away, sitting back down on her hands and knees. “You get to choose who lives and who dies.”

“Lexa, I don’t command anything.” Clarke’s brow tightened, cocking her head to the side. “It was a coup de grace. He couldn’t be saved and he signed a DNR when he was responsive. He crashed, and I followed the law.” 

“But, is that not commanding death itself?” Lexa inquired with a stern gaze. 

“I did my duty.” Clarke grew annoyed, but she knew Lexa was truly puzzled. She didn’t want to let her off the hook so easily at this insulting new petname.

“You’re a doctor, are you not?” Lexa questioned. 

“Well…” 

“You play God by helping the sick.” Clarke recoiled, shaking her head back and forth. “Normally, the weak would be routed out by nature. You saved them instead, so you commanded they’d live.” Lexa was soft, peering down with kind, loving eyes. Clarke swallowed a lump in her throat. She didn’t know how to explain it, nor did she want to.

“I guess I see your point…” Clarke annunciated the words with a confused shrug. “But, Lexa, I’m not sure I like the name, Wanheda.” 

“In my church, it’s a compliment.” Lexa flashed her a quick grin. “It is almost as honored a title as Heda.”

“I guess so…” Clarke let it go. She turned back around, sitting between Lexa’s arms, sliding a sharpie from the shirt pocket. Lexa surrendered her forearm to Clarke’s gentle tug, setting it on her thigh. Lexa’s soft sigh in her ear intoxicated Clarke. Her heart leapt in her chest faster than the wings of a hummingbird. Clarke popped the top off of the sharpie with her teeth and started to doodle.

She twisted it in soft curves with a flick of her wrist, concentrating on the soft, smooth contours of Lexa’s forearm. Lexa brought her mouth to the top of Clarke’s head. She could feel her beam of love crawl on her lips. Lexa pressed her forehead on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke sunk into her, propping her knees to her chest with Lexa’s arm on top. Clarke pulled back her sharpie, staring at her small doodle. 

“Do you like it?” She breathed. 

“I do.” Lexa studied Clarke’s rough sketch of a tribal butterfly. The wings were swirled around in an infinity, breaking away with both curved and jagged lines. Lexa pulled her in close, her arms looped under Clarke’s breast. She buried her face in Clarke’s neck, grazing her lips just below Clarke’s earlobe. Clarke clutched her legs together. Fire build in her loins with a sudden thirst. “Thank you.” Lexa exhaled in Clarke’s ear.

“For?” Clarke chuckled, playing coy. Lexa tensed for a second. Clarke hauled herself away, spinning back around to face Lexa. Worry crept through her. 

“Backing me. From earlier with Octavia.” Clarke peered at the floor between them, then back up at her beloved. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”

“Anytime.” Octavia and Lexa had a go at each other in the hospital after Octavia screamed in Clarke’s face for pulling the plug on Atom. Lexa tore her away and Octavia decked Lexa in the face. They began to brawl and Clarke ripped them off each other, staying with Lexa instead of rushing after Octavia.

“Clarke?” Lexa pulled Clarke out of the quick flash from earlier in the day.

“Yeah?” 

“I…” Lexa choked on her words. Clarke sucked in fresh air from her nose, drawing in deep. She thought today was the day. Today was the day that Lexa would say that she loved her. She already said yes to marrying her. Hell, she said those three words every single day without having to actually say it in the way Lexa studied her every move. Clarke felt the love in her kiss, in those silver-greens drinking her in like she was the only person she saw. Lexa looked at Clarke like she had just seen color for the first time; so full of awe and wonder. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh…” Clarke’s jaw tightened, slightly disappointed. “Thanks.” She wanted to say it. She just didn’t know how Lexa would react, especially since it had just been a year since she lost Costia. Lexa screamed every night in her sleep, crying out for her. Clarke silently died inside every time she did. She wanted Lexa to be ready to say it. She didn’t want to push her away. She wanted…

“Clarke?” Lexa snapped Clarke out of her head.

“Yeah?” Lexa pushed her hand up on the side of Clarke’s head, searching her depths back and forth. She breathed out with a cold huff. Clarke’s face fell slack, her chest sinking into her stomach with each long pant. It was that look Clarke longed for. Lexa came in, resting her forehead against Clarke’s, lightly grazing her open mouth on Clarke’s bottom lip, but refusing to connect. Clarke’s body lunged forward when Lexa came back down, still holding the side of her face, connecting at last, like perfect puzzle pieces snapping into place. Clarke drew closer to Lexa. Lexa slowly pulled away, changing her position, grazing her nose across Clarke’s in a soft boop with an open mouth. Lexa slid the tip of her tongue in between Clarke’s teeth. 

Clarke couldn’t take the torment any further. She ran her hands up Lexa’s shirt. Lexa sped up, hungrily pressing harder against Clarke. They separated. They swam their restless gaze in one another. With fumbling hands, Clarke unbuttoned the top of Lexa’s skinny jeans. Lexa overpowered Clarke, pushing her to floor, topping her over gently. Clarke collided once more, gritting her teeth in a rabid desire, flipping Lexa on her back. She rushed her cool hands under the side of Lexa’s shirt, then slid her hands above her head on the floor. 

“C-clarke!” Lexa softly moaned. Clarke held Lexa bound, pushing her way down south while Lexa’s back uncontrollably arched. 

 

Clarke Present: One Week Later

“Come here often?” Clarke rested her back on the corner of a wall in the open stockroom. She crossed her arms, lacing her legs together in her lean. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun with her blue scrubs creasing at the bends of her arms. A girl with dark blonde hair jumped at Clarke’s startle. Her hand flooded to her chest, dropping a box she was stocking. She was tall with braids on the side of her hair, looping toward the back in an intricate design. She had a long face and dirty blue eyes. Clarke instinctively dropped to the floor, picking up the box for the girl, handing it back to her. 

“My hero.” Niylah smoldered. She delicately retrieved the box from Clarke’s open hands, brushing against them. A sudden bloom rushed over her high cheekbones. Clarke granted her a half cocky smirk. “Here I thought this run was going to be dull, dropping off your…” She glanced at the label. “Popsicle sticks.”

“Tongue depressors.” Clarke corrected, annunciating each word. She let them drift from her tongue, quietly filling the void between and floating around Niylah’s ear in a whisp. Goosebumps protruded on her arms. 

“Ahh” Niylah leaned in close to Clarke, reaching past her, making an effort to graze her chest against Clarke’s shoulder. “Tongue. Depressors…” She pulled away quick, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “So, how about that second date?” She bit her bottom lip, clasping her hand on her forearm, rocking back and forth.

“Oh, you know I have to work late tonight.”

“I see.” Niylah glanced down at her feet, then back up at Clarke. She came in close, reaching her hand up to brush a stray strand away from Clarke’s face. “Here I thought you’d try to get me into a sexy little black dress and a few candles laying around.” Clarke’s jaw clenched together, as she studied the oncoming traffic walking around the hallway. Niylah was so much like Lexa, Clarke couldn’t stand it. 

‘What the hell am I doing?’ Clarke thought. She clenched her fists together, slightly trembling, resting in the memorium of her lost love. Clarke blew cool air upward with each fleeting thought. The way Lexa brushed her hair back before she lunged in for the kill. Clarke shook her head. The way Lexa’s smile lit up the entire room, settling Clarke’s restful panic. She averted her gaze from Niylah. The brush of Lexa’s plump lips gliding against hers, pulsating shockwaves from her crown, swirling throughout her core, then traveling toward her toes in a perfect circuit. They spoke the three significant worlds without having to say them. Clarke sucked in a sharp breath through her nose then returned her attention on Niylah.

“I was only joking. Don’t take it so…” Suddenly, Clarke grabbed Niylah by her shoulders, spinning her around, then slammed her against the wall. Niylah’s surprise widened bright like an audience reaction at a ginormous plot twist. The vibrations cascaded the tongue depressors to the floor. “What are you?!” Clarke reached her caress to Niylah’s face, thumbing her bottom lip. She enclosed the space between like a lion attacking a gazelle. Clarke’s brow drew closer together, separating for a quick breath, before hungrily sliding her tongue between her teeth. She rushed her hand up Niylah’s side. Niylah broke away. “Well, hello to you too!”

For a brief moment, Nilyah no longer existed and Clarke was back with Lexa. Flashes of her silver-greens danced around Clarke’s imagination. Her soft sighs and smiles within each collision enticed Clarke to sink deeper into the delusion. It came hard in waves, pulling in the tide back and forth. Clarke didn’t care anymore. If it was the only way she could have Lexa home with her, then she would take what she could get, even if it was a delusion and not really her. 

Clarke pulled on Niylah’s shirt, lifting her off of the wall. She caught her by the mouth, guiding her just across the hall into the nurse’s lounge. Niylah retracted a moment, brushing her nose across Clarke’s. Clarke sucked in her bottom lip, lightly biting it before letting it snap back, guiding her to the entryway of the opposite room. Niylah groped at Clarke’s shirt, raising it above her head. Clarke kicked the door shut with her foot. She forgot about the blinds. Clarke guided her to the small cot in the corner of the room. She pushed Niylah on top, clutching onto her pants at the same time. With one fail swoop, she unfastened them and ripped them off like opening a present. Niylah flipped Clarke over on her back, trailing from her lips down her torso, lightly biting under her hipbone. Clarke moaned. She felt Niylah’s smile creeping south. Clarke clutched her fingers in the sheets, slightly arching her back. Clarke wished it was Lexa. She longed that it was Lexa. In her mind, for a brief moment, the tide came crashing in and Niylah was.

 

LEXA

Day by day, Lexa gained strength, until she was finally able to take walks. She refused the cane like Anya, who weaned off of it. The hole in her gut healed faster than any of the doctors had anticipated. The bullet hit her colon, which Abby expected it to heal more slowly and only allotted her to eat soft foods, just in case. She really just craved a burger, though. Anya and her always went to a spot right next to a dive bar across the railroad tracks. Suddenly, a flash of that night flickered in her head. Lexa shook off the thought, like it were light specks from staring at the sun. Just in another week, she would be released. Lexa was ready. She wanted nothing more than to get the hell out and never return. 

Anya and Octavia walked around the floor with Lexa for her daily exercises. They took great strides to distract the Heda from the boredom of a nearly barren room full of beeping machines and salty smelling, pink soap. The case made some progression. Lexa welcomed all information and any distraction.

“So, Partner, Octavia is my stand in until I’m off desk duty.” Anya stepped slowly, limping at her own wounds. “Gave me a goddamn rookie after all.” She pushed Octavia’s shoulder. Lexa nodded back at her, flashing a quick smile at them. It was gone as quick as it came.

“She’s a hard ass. I don’t know how the hell you put up with this one.” Octavia lightly patted Anya on the back. Anya smiled, shaking her head back and forth.

“She always has been.” Lexa flashed an amused grin at Anya. Anya’s grew wider. “So, how is the investigation going with finding Titus.”

“Shouldn’t you rest, now and think about that later?” Octavia stopped at the free coffee machine, pouring her a cup of the black bubbling bile. “Oh my god, I see what Clarke says now about this machine.” She threw the cup away in the waste bin, not even finishing the fresh pour. 

“It’s okay, Octavia. She needs the distraction.” Anya exhaled. The trio were on the move once more. “I have an APB on the car. Chief says he’s working tirelessly on it, but he won’t let any of them get away with it. I just want some sort of justice.” She rested her hands on her hips. “Oh, but we did catch a suspect. He said he’s willing to give up the location on Titus for a plea deal.”

“How did you know who he was when you don’t even have the car?” Octavia questioned. 

“Well, kid, I used to patrol the Polis sector of TonDC. I knew him from a while ago. He was stupid enough to surface. One of our officers pulled him over for a busted taillight, and we nabbed him.” Octavia nodded, understanding the call. 

“Jus drein, jus daun.” Lexa responded. They kept walking. “H-have you seen Clarke lately?” She didn’t even know how to ask the question. Lexa just wanted to hear that she was okay. She hadn’t seen Clarke since their fight. She wanted to apologize. 

“She’s been… Out lately.” Octavia informed. “She said it was work issues, but I think it may be something more.” Lexa’s heart sank to her stomach. 

“I see…” They slogged on, slowly turning the corner. Suddenly, a loud thud erupted through the hallway. “What the hell?” The trio hurried toward the source of the noise. Lexa thought a Trikru grunt was attacking the Azgeda one, roomed on the other side of the wing. They peered through the open window, to Lexa’s horror, noting Clarke slamming a girl against the wall, in nothing but her black, see-through, lace, boyshorts while the other girl was bare to the world. Clarke brushed her hair back, hungrily slamming her hands up the wall, retracting softly before attacking once more. Lexa clenched her fists, perls welled in her silver-greens.

“Well, she moved on fast. Didn’t think she’d actually do it.” Octavia crossed her arms with an amused grin. “Get some, Griffin.” Lexa grinded her fangs, before parting her lips, spinning on her heel. She darted down the hall in a fury, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. ‘Anya was right.’ Lexa thought, dashing as fast as she could. Anya grabbed at Octavia, pushing her backward.

“Now you’ve done it…” She was cold, hard and unfeeling toward her stand-in partner. Octavia straightened her shirt. “LEXA WAIT!” Anya rushed toward the Heda. She huffed down the hall, limping on her bad leg. Anya met her, grabbing at the upper of her arm, jerking Lexa around to face her. “Lexa…”

“I’m fine.” Lexa raised her arm in attempts to free herself from Anya’s clutch. She refused to look at her partner. Anya reverted back into the big sister role she often took with Lexa.

“No, you’re not. Come here.” Anya pulled Lexa in close. Lexa used both of the balls of her hands to push Anya away. 

“I said I’m fine.” Lexa seethed through gritted teeth. Her chest sunk into her stomach with each deep hyperventilative breath. 

“If you don’t want to continue, we could…”

“I am more than capable of separating feelings from duty!” Lexa quaked with fury. Her cry swam around the room, turning heads onto the pair. Anya scanned the area, as if telling the onlookers the spectacle was over. 

“Lexa…” She lowered her hand, motioning Lexa to calm down. “Alright. Shall we continue?” Lexa nodded, averting her attention from her partner. The two slogged on. 

 

CLARKE

 

Niylah rolled off of a panting Clarke. She flung her hand over her head for a brief moment, chuckling. Clarke smirked, sitting up, collecting their clothes, switching bras in the process. Clarke jumped out of bed, bouncing while sliding on her pants. Niylah threw her top over of her torso. 

“Wow! … That was…” Niylah raised her lower half, to replace her pants. “Wow!” Clarke laid back down, her arm behind her head. “Best. Supply. Run. Ever.” Niylah laid back down, curling into Clarke’s side. 

“Yeah.” Clarke couldn’t focus. She realized what she had done; who she wished it was. Guilt overtook her. She stared at the popcorn tiled ceiling, focusing on her breathing. She wanted Lexa out of her mind for good. But, she was dancing around on the tip of her tongue, tormenting her existence. 

“You okay?” Niylah set up on her elbows. “You kind of just, sort of, shut down on me there.”

“Got a lot on my mind.” Clarke shifted, granting her a quick smile to reassure her. 

“I’m sorry…” Niylah croaked. “It’s Finn isn’t it? Look, I get it if it’s too soon.” Niylah struggled to get up, flinging her feet over the side of the bed. “I should go.”

“No.” Clarke caught her by the wrist. Niylah snapped her neck around. Clarke couldn’t believe what she just did. She should have let her go. She knew she should have let her go. It was only the right thing to do while thinking about another in the most intimate moments. But, she didn’t want to be alone. Clarke was terrified. “Stay. Just for a moment longer?”

“S-sure.” Niylah slid back into bed, laying her head on Clarke’s chest, cuddling into her. She wrapped her leg around Clarke’s bottom half. Clarke spread out, setting her hand over her eyes. She missed the aftercare most with Lexa. The way she’d sigh, curling her body into Clarke’s, spreading her warmth and security around her. She could fall apart and Lexa wouldn’t judge her. Lexa would fall to pieces too, their bond too intense. 

Clarke and Lexa stared into each other’s eyes for hours afterword, motionless, breathless, like diving into the drink where everything is weightless. All time, all sense of self faded. Clarke never knew where she began and where Lexa ended. They were one. 

Clarke particularly missed when she’d come home from work and bury her face between Lexa’s shoulder blades, holding her from behind. It was the only time Lexa ever let go. She loved that she could be the strong one and hold her tight, while allowing Lexa to let her tears fall, filling her with warmth and light. She missed her smell. She missed her heart beating in time with hers, their breath synchronizing. Clarke slid into the delusion once more that Lexa was laying beside her, and not some strange girl who gave her heart eyes every chance she got. 

Lexa smile lit up the entire room without even trying. Clarke secured a crippling sigh pouring from her mouth. Niylah leaned up, peering, hungrily at Clarke’s mouth. Clarke craned her neck down, cascading an open mouthed kiss on Niylah. The tip of her tongue flicked with hers. Niylah drank her in, breathing in sharply, then rolled back overtop of Clarke. A sudden beeping erupted, reverberating around the room. Clarke threw her head back, annoyed, then pulled out the pager on her belt. She glared at the code, heavily sighing. She threw her feet over the edge of the bed, pulling away from Niylah’s embrace.

“Got to go. Duty calls.” She turned toward Niylah, fixing her hair back into a messy bun. Niylah spun her finger within the sheets of the bed. 

“Call me?”

“Sure.” Clarke threw herself out of the room, quick as she could. She sighed, then continued on in great stride to do her duty. 

 

LEXA: A FEW HOURS LATER

 

Lexa couldn’t stop thinking about what she walked in on earlier. Clarke knew how to twist the knife, and Lexa knew she’d let her. She enabled her to do so, and this was all of her fault. All of it was her fault. Finn may still be alive if she didn’t give into what Gustus said. They would be married and Clarke, certainly, wouldn’t be screwing some supply girl if she hadn’t betrayed Clarke’s trust and left. Her heart wouldn’t be shattered in a million jagged pieces everytime Clarke looks her way. She wouldn’t die every time her name escaped from those lips she adored. 

Four soft thuds erupted on Lexa’s door. She wiped her eyes, however, they lit up like the headlights on a car when she noted that figure she wished would walk through her door for the past few days. Her hopes and dreams crashed around her feet. Lexa shuffled from the lightbox to the other side of the room, facing her back toward Clarke. She sucked in a deep breath, collecting herself. 

“You’re getting stronger every day.” Clarke smiled. “Walking around now?” Lexa ignored her. “Not talking today?” Her question fused more into a monotone observation. Clarke sighed. “Alright.”

“Just, do your job and go.” Lexa seethed while Clarke grabbed the blood pressure meter, ripping the velcro from the rolled up end. “I don’t want to stop you from more important things.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clarke’s hands fell to her side, suddenly stopping the ripping from the end of the velcro.

“Sorry. That was out of line.” Lexa turned back to her, clasping her hands behind her back, while raising her chin like she would to Chief Kane, while standing in his office defending her actions.

“Whatever is going on, you can tell me.” Clarke set the meter on the table, sauntering toward Lexa.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Is it your stitches?” Clarke rushed Lexa, stretching her hand toward the hole in her stomach. Lexa recoiled with a shutter. Clarke balled up her fist, still stretched toward Lexa, then dropped it. “What is it?” Lexa refused to answer. She paced the room, blowing out hard. Clarke’s brow furrowed, worry crept across her long lashes. She was tense, about to spring into action. Lexa stopped pacing, tears filling her silver-greens. She fought them back, glancing at the ceiling. 

“I saw you.” She clenched her fists, shaking them at her side. “With… that girl.” Lexa blinked the tears from her eyes, pursing her lips.

“Oh…” Lexa could read Clarke better than Clarke read herself. Guilt crept on her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s my fault, really.” Lexa sighed. “If you’re happy, who am I to stop it.” She let the words roll off quickly. There was no going back from it. Clarke bobbed her head backward, peering toward the floor. She nodded, refusing to look Lexa in the eye. Lexa studied her contours. The way her hair swept back in the messy bun. The pink strands she adored caught in the crossfire of the mane. Her perfect lips, which were just pressed against anothers. Lexa choked the lump back. Clarke’s sky blues met Lexa’s silver-greens. 

“Maybe someday we will be okay again.” She shrugged. “Maybe we will owe nothing more to our people and just be happy.” Lexa swallowed hard. The sharp pain in her throat refused to cease. “Maybe someday, we can be friends.”

“I hope so.” She flashed a quick half smirk, but her eyes betrayed her sincerity. 

“I, uh, have to get back.” Clarke pointed toward the door with her thumb over her shoulder. “My patients need me.”

“I know. That’s why I…” Clarke jerked her head around, studying Lexa like she’s never seen the sky before. “You know what, it doesn’t matter.” Clarke refused to look away. Her lips parted. She nodded.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Clarke, I appreciate the concern, but I’m alright.”

“Alright…” Clarke cleared her throat. She picked up the meter from the table, placing it back in the cubby hole where she got it from, quickly darting out of the room without saying a word. Lexa’s breath quickened, her chest sinking into her ribcage. It fell faster and faster. Her brevity collapsed in her chasm of anguish. Tears rolled down her perfect cheeks. She wiped them away, then sauntered toward the window. 

A helicopter whirled around the pad, landing with a gentle thud. Lexa wanted to get her mind off of Clarke, but nothing helped. So, she peered out her window, wishing the person was okay because she was’t. She was far from okay. Her seas fell faster. She almost didn’t notice when the door creaked back open. A click latched the back to a close. Clarke enclosed the distance between. Lexa spun back around, tears pouring from her face. Clarke hesitated, her eyes wide. Lexa’s mouth fell slightly open, searching Clarke like she was her everything. Her aura drifted around a grey cloud. Lexa’s sliver of emotion in those cool eyes sloped down like a sad pup. Slowly, Clarke stepped forward. 

“I thought you were leaving?” Clarke charged Lexa with a fury, rushing the distance in a jog. “Are you okay?” Clarke ignored her. “Clarke?” 

“I’m not.” She silenced Lexa with her soft lips. Clarke pulled back. Lexa let what little of her brevity she had left, go. She quivered as her seas flooded into an ocean. She curled her lip around Clarke’s, dispensing electric pulses throughout her open mouth. The breaths between sweetened her taste. She gingerly pulled away. Clarke feverishly lunged for another collision, pulling away for a sharp breath; dew sticking to Lexa’s lashes. She hungrily twisted her fingers within Lexa’s mane. It was sweet, with a drunken passion. 

Every kiss she pulled Lexa into spoke unsaid words. I’M SORRY. Lexa weaved her fingers through Clarke’s hair, meeting her ear. I NEED YOU. Clarke pressed against her with an unrelenting force. I LOVE YOU. Lexa gently pulled away, grazing Clarke’s nose with hers as she changed positions, coming at her once more. Lexa held her close, fusing her body in Clarke’s like a puzzle piece snapping into place, revealing the bigger picture. They separated. Lexa winced.

Lexa was quaking, her silver-green's petrified in a plea for Clarke to return. Her chest sunk into her stomach with each pant. Clarke pulled her in, hungry, sliding her fingers underneath Lexa’s mane at the back of her head. Clarke separated from her once more, gazing into her gorgeous silver-greens. Lexa slowly crashed into her again, as Clarke felt her lip quiver in such beautiful vulnerability. Someone so strong trembled at her embrace. It was if she had allowed herself to feel like a woman for the first time. 

Clarke tasted Lexa’s tears as she lunged in deeper. Lexa breathed her in. They sank into each other’s core. The air escaped from their lungs as they couldn’t help but twist their arms around each other’s frame. A moan crippled from Lexa’s lips. She trembled as she traced down Clarke’s open neck. She became vulnerable to her mercy. Electricity shook from their loins with each press of their cool, moist, lips. Clarke took Lexa’s face in her hands, lifted her head and slid her tongue between her teeth. Lexa feverishly drank Clarke in further.

Clarke pushed her hands up Lexa’s chest, grasping hold of her, pulling her in as close as she could. Lexa’s lip quivered once again. They wanted to fuse together like sugar in tea. Clarke wanted to hold her in close and never let go; yet, she pushed her off instead. Lexa gazed with glazed eyes with a stern stillness. 

“I should go…” Clarke breathed, pushing the ball of her fist on Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa raised her chin. Clarke lingered, pulling on Lexa’s hand, slowly walking away toward the door. Lexa searched Clarke for anything she was thinking. Clarke bit her bottom lip, shaking her fist to steady herself. A tear rolled out of her sky-blues. “Not as happy as I could have been…” Clarke turned on her heels and shut the door behind her, leaving Lexa alone. Lexa returned toward the window, setting her trembling fingers to her mouth, holding her torso. The girl she loved, who she would live and die for truly, deeply, loved her back. Lexa collapsed her head in her hands, gritting her teeth and wept.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!!EXTREME TRIGGER WARNING!!!  
>  !!!YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!
> 
> After Clarke and Lexa kissed, FINALLY, Lexa's entire world is shifted upside down when a sudden explosion wakes her up. 
> 
> What will happen next?   
> Will they finally be happy?
> 
> Find out more in the latest chapter of RoseBlood93's Only You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where did you go? I couldn't stay. I'm always reaching out to your callous abandon, and I just wish you could hear me. If only I could see you again. If only I could see you again...

CHAPTER 6  
LEXA & Clarke

Lexa woke, her arms and legs flinging in the air, to a sudden boom rocking the entire hospital. Chirping alarms and screams cried throughout the east wing. ‘Clarke!’ Lexa thought, leaping out from her covers. Lexa thought a helicopter crashed into the side of the hospital. She jerked her pants on, throwing her gown top on the floor. She grabbed her blue button-down shirt, flinging it over her arms, buttoning it while sliding on her already laced Vans. Lexa missed a few buttons, but she didn’t care. She had to get to Clarke at all costs. She wasn’t about to lose her; not again. Three more booms rocked the infrastructure. 

“Bombs!” She grabbed the holster of her knife, clasping it around the upper of her thigh. Lexa flung open the door, quick as she could. Smoke filled the room like a looming cloud in the mountain tops. Lexa coughed, raising her arm to her face, covering her mouth. She spilled out of the room in the midst of the panic cascading around the collapsing lobby. A giant jagged hole in the wall blasted open with a fourth boom. 

Five bulky men sauntered in the entrance from the wreckage. The hole radiated small amounts of sunlight through. One of the men had slightly longer hair and a perfectly groomed beard, chucking a grenade in his hand, then catching it again. Lexa could make out his “X’s” scars across his temples and a pin resting in his mouth. 

“Roan!” Lexa roared with a furious thunder. He pointed two fingers in one hall and then down the other. The four that were with him separated, rushing the two wings. Roan stepped back, disappearing in the stampeding crowd. Shrieks and wails reverberated throughout the hospital. Rapid gunfire popped in a burst of fire. More shrieks poured out from the West Wing. Lexa rushed toward the danger, pulling out her phone from her pants pocket. She tapped Anya’s number in her contacts. 

“Come on! Pick up! Pick up, Anya!” Lexa huffed and heaved, half sprinting. She grabbed at her gut, lifting her fingers. Faint black ooze dribbled out. She gritted her teeth. “Come on, Anya!” Anya finally answered. 

“Lexa! Are you hurt?!” Anya’s voice was chilling with a quake. 

“I’m fine. I’m okay. Where the hell are you?” Lexa cried out. She was frantically pacing the area, ducking under frayed wires buzzing about her head. Patients and nurses ran around the area in a frenzy. Soot and debris painted their faces with white ash. ‘The warpaint of Azgeda,’ Lexa thought.

“I was taking a statement in the West Wing from an Azgeda junkie, then I heard the boom, followed by three more. I just heard the last one, too! There’s debris everywhere. Octavia is here with me. I told her to escort the civilians to safety.”

“Is Clarke with you?” There was a pause at the end of the line. “Anya!”

“She was here. She heard the explosions and ran out. I’ll find her, don’t worry!” Lexa’s head spun faster than she could think. She raised her hands above her head, resting it on top, while scanning the room. She jogged deeper toward a collapsed hall leading to the West Wing of the hospital. She found an opening, ducking under a hot beam, searing her forearm. She winced. “Lexa, I promise, I’ll find her. You get clear. You’re not healed.”

“I can’t!”

“Heda, please!” Anya begged. Lexa shimmied between a crevice of the wall and frayed wires. Small flickers of flames bounced to and froh.

“It’s Roan!” The other end faded into a crackling stillness. Wires snapped from the ceiling, sparking at the collapsing infrastructure. Lexa broke free to the other side. More small fires ignited. Both staff and non-staff broke out fire extinguishers, spraying the sea of foam at the flame.

“I know I can’t change your mind on this one.” Lexa remained quiet. “Heda, ste yuj!” 

“You too.” Lexa clicked the phone off. She took off in a sprint, her stitches ripping with each jog. She grinded her fang, pressing her hand against her stomach. A small dot bloomed on her buttondown. She slowed down, giving herself some space. She couldn’t think straight. Clarke was out here somewhere. She just hoped she was okay. She just hoped…

“Clarke!” Lexa didn’t care how hard she ran or the tearing in her gut. Clarke was laying on the floor with pieces of rubble and a steal beam catching her shin. Clarke’s hands swam toward the shattered glass jabbing at her side. She was lucky it didn’t pierce her skin. Lexa ducked down, throwing the bits of the overhead light off of her. Clarke glared at her, wide eyed. “Clarke, you need to help me lift this!” Lexa scooped the beam into her arms like a bodybuilder lifting weights. Clarke pulled up on it as well, losing her grasp. The heat from the metal burned their hands. Lexa was relentless. The veins in her neck pulsated as she pulled it up, crying out in the process. They removed it from Clarke’s leg, tossing it to the side of her body. A sudden sparking flashed from the exposed wires overhead. Lexa ducked under it, then grabbed Clarke’s hands, dragging her to a safer area. Clarke brushed herself off. “Clarke!” Lexa set her upright, stroking her hair from her face. Pure consternation read across her features. “Are you hurt?” Clarke didn’t answer. “Are you hurt?!”

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” Clarke panted. She held her shin, stretching her foot around, making sure nothing was broken. She stopped to study Lexa, pushing her hand on her reopened wound. Clarke pulled a sterilizing pad out of her pocket, popping open Lexa’s shirt with a rip. “I keep these on me at all times.” Clarke stuck the pad overtop of the stitching. “It’s not gonna hold, but it will do for now.”

Lexa was bare. Dribbles of her lifeforce folded in the lines of her contours. Clarke traced her fingertips overtop, then peered back at Lexa. Lexa cradled Clarke’s head in her hand. Clarke flung into Lexa’s arms, holding her tight with an unrelenting force. She sunk deep into Lexa, who buried her face in Clarke’s neck. Her lip brushed Clarke’s ear as Lexa pulled away, glancing from her sky-blues to her lips. Clarke lunged in. Lexa met her halfway. They connected in a fury. Clarke fell into her collision. Tears built, but she held them back. They separated. Lexa stroked Clarke’s stray strands around her ear. 

“It’s Azgeda. We have to move.” Lexa was ginger, yet authoritative, caressing Clarke’s cheek. She slid her searching hands down Clarke’s shoulders. Lexa stood up from her kneel. She clasped Clarke by the elbows, pulling her to her feet. 

“Right.” Clarke brushed herself off. She peered back up at the love of her life, her lips parted. “Lexa, be careful. You’re not completely healed.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t be afraid.” Lexa flashed her a reassuring grin. 

“Roan?” Clarke’s inquiry rolled off her tongue. Lexa read Clarke. She knew it was him, but just wanted the validation. 

“Yes.” Lexa took Clarke’s hand, rushing through another open passageway. A sudden trepidation overtook Lexa. She scanned the area, holding Clarke behind her. She quietly trekked deeper. The overhead florescent lights flickered. “Keep quiet and stay behind me.” Lexa slid her knife out of its resting spot, lining the blade with her forearm. She crouched in a defensive position, centering her balance of gravity. Her shirt opening fell around her bare breasts. Clarke nodded in a blush. 

“LEXA LOOK OUT!” Clarke shrieked. An Azgeda grunt rushed toward Lexa with a scalpel in his hands. He slashed past Lexa’s face. She flung herself backward, punching at him, and caught him with the slice of her forearm. Droplets of blood dripped down his shoulder, collecting on the broken tile of the floor. He came back around, punching forward. Lexa dodged, smashing him in the jaw with the back of her hand. He groped at her hair, twisting his hands in it, yanking down. Lexa came in close, then, using the ball of her hand, threw him off center by jabbing up his nose. He stumbled backward, spitting out a tooth and crimson gew. He charged once more. Lexa spun around his back, dodging his attack. He slashed at Clarke, meeting his mark. A short red gash spit her porcelain cheek, slowly breaking apart like a fracture in ice. Lexa had enough. She lunged forward grasping him from behind. The Azgeda grunt stabbed at her, missing completely. Lexa popped her elbow in his hand, causing him to drop the scalpel. She couldn’t stop her momentum. Lexa sliced at the nape of his neck. He fell, completely motionless with a still glaze in his crazed stare.

“Are you alright?” Lexa called out. Azgeda blood painted her face, across the bridge of her nose. Clarke darted her gaze from Lexa to the body and back again. Her quaking hand met Lexa’s cheek, smearing the blood on her fingertips. She studied the thick red, then back toward Lexa.

“Y-yeah.” 

“We need to keep moving.” Another boom erupted in Arkadia hospital, shaking the foundation. Lexa turned her attention toward the ceiling. The creaking of crumpling metal disintegrated in the fracture overhead. Clarke was in its warpath. Lexa shoved her hard, taking on the weight of the collapsed metal beam on the lower of her back. Lexa fell, busting her lip. She spat out the warm black ooze. 

“Lexa!” Flames ignited in the spark around them, peeling the paint off the wall. The tiles of the floor shattered in millions of jagged shards. Clarke dropped to a knee, lowering her hands below the edge of the steel beam. She pulled on it hard. It shifted the rubble. Lexa wasn’t sure if it was going to collapse the rest of the rubble. 

“Leave me!”

“No way!” Clarke tugged up. The shifted slightly. Lexa still wasn’t sure, but there was no other way. The flame burned brighter, roaring into a rolling wisp of heat. Lexa coughed at the smoke. Clarke left Lexa to run toward the fire extinguisher on the wall. She sprayed the flames out, quick as she could, then returned to the beam.

“Clarke, if you don’t, we both will die.” Lexa grunted under the pressure. She didn’t care if she died as long as Clarke got clear and was safe. She was at peace with it, but she’d never be at peace if she lost Clarke too. 

“Then we die together.” Clarke was assertive; stubborn. Lexa cried out. 

“Clarke…” The pitch of her voice increased. Clarke tugged on the steel beam once more. More pressure relieved itself from Lexa’s back. Sparking of the frayed wires zapped above her head. Clarke ducked. “ I can’t lose you. Your people need you!”

“You are my people!” Clarke ignored the sharp blue lights zapping over her. Lexa grew more nervous the closer her face got to it with each tug upward. Clarke completely squatted, setting her hand below the other, hauling the beam upward at the corner. She was able to lift it enough for Lexa to shimmy out from underneath. Small pieces of rubble stuck to Lexa’s stomach from her open shirt. She brushed them off. Clarke pulled her close, holding on. Lexa’s fresh bandage bloomed with the black spot. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay, don’t be afraid.” She reassured Clarke, holding her face in her hands. Clarke nodded. Lexa took Clarke’s hand, lifting herself to her feet, then charged out of the concaved area. They took great strides, rummaging through the rubble. Lexa lost her knife in the area. She’d find it later. It meant the world to her, but not as much as Clarke. She didn’t care about possessions when it came to HER. She just wanted to make sure her beloved was safe and clear. At a moment, the two paused to catch their breath. Lexa held her hands on her knees, heaving in a pant. Clarke threw her head back toward the ceiling. 

“Where’s Anya? Have you seen her?” Lexa turned her head toward Clarke. 

“I thought she was with you.” Clarke’s alarm rung throughout the safe area. Lexa rolled her eyes, not at Clarke, but at the hopeless situation they have found themselves in. Lexa pulled her phone out of her pocket, flipping the back over. In the palm of her hand rested the remnants of a broken screen, with blue and grey dots all around. ‘Shit.’ Lexa moaned in her head. She heavily sighed, dabbing her fingers to her wound. She pulled them away, studying the soiled mess. Her stitches ripped out. She was just in shock, unable to feel it. Any more blood pooling and the adhesive around the edges would pop off. She peered back at Clarke, her open shirt draped around her breasts. Clarke blushed.

Lexa used her fumbling fingers to thumb the buttons back into position. Their breathing shallowed back to a stillness. A sudden distant shout rang like gunfire. It was close in the blackness flashing in and out with the flicker of the overhead lights. Clarke and Lexa glanced at each other. The shouting continued. 

“That’s Octavia!” Clarke ran toward the noise. Lexa jogged behind her. Clarke was considerate enough to leave her at a pace that she wasn’t ahead too much. They turned the corner toward the nurse’s room. Octavia stood out, hands firmly placed on her police issued pistol, keeping it pointed towards a large, bulky man with a finely trimmed beard. 

“Hold it, asshole!” She roared in thunderous waves. He held up his hands, his back toward her with a grenade in one. He spun around. Lexa’s heart raced in a violent fury. She wanted to charge him and slide her thumbs in his eyes, then cut out his tongue, followed by filleting him while he still breathed. She wanted to grant him death by a thousand cuts, deep in her core. She quaked so hard, Clarke took notice, holding her hand to keep her calm.

“You think that’s a wise decision?” He lowered his hands to his sides. 

“I said stop!” She held her pistol in an execution styled manner. Clarke dropped Lexa’s hand. Roan took notice to her, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite detective.” Roan tossed the grenade in his hand, catching it. He threw it towards Clarke, pulling out the pin. Lexa grabbed at it, flinging herself on top, curling around the explosive. It didn’t do anything. It was a dud. 

“You son-of-a…” Clarke charged toward him. Lexa sprung to her feet, holding her back. Clarke’s tenseness slightly dissolved at the reassurance Lexa was alright. 

“What do you want.” Lexa enunciated each word with a pursed mouth. She was callous, collected even. Clarke’s alarm grew stronger.

“Trikru put a pretty price on your head, Heda.” Roan coughed a snarky chuckle. Lexa seethed through narrow eyes. “I’m just trying to end this war.”

“By killing innocent people?!” Clarke cried out with contempt. 

“Who’s the blonde?” Roan pointed his thumb toward Clarke. 

“You leave her out of this.” Lexa’s resentment poured through gritted teeth. 

“Touchy subject?” Roan cocked his head to the side. “No matter.” He swaggered closer to the two. Octavia danced on the knife’s edge, ready to pounce. 

“I said, stop where you are!” Octavia ordered. Roan took another step. POP! Octavia fired a round in his shoulder. The shell dropped to the floor in a ping. Roan did not waver. He merely clutched it, grinding at his fangs. Octavia paced backward a step. Lexa lowered her center of gravity, ready to pounce. 

“Ow…” Roan pulled up the sopping shirt around the fresh hole. “Believe it or not, I’m on your side.”

“Then why kill those people?” Lexa wanted answers. She wasn’t in the mood to be dicked around by the man who killed her Costia. 

“Them?” He shoved his fingers in the hole, dragging out a fragment of the bullet, flicking it to the floor. It was a play of dominance. “They were Trikru grunts. Had to show fealty to mother. Look, you want revenge, I want the war to end… To go home.” He glanced away, then flicked his tongue once more. “We want the same things, Lexa”

“I’ll kill him myself!” Clarke charged toward him. Lexa held her back once again. 

“Isn’t it your job to heal, not kill?” His brow furrowed and his mouth turned grim. 

“I’ve heard enough.” Lexa glared at Roan. “Clarke, you need to leave, now.” She let go of her, throwing herself in front of Clarke like a human shield. 

“Not without you!” Clarke grabbed onto her elbow. Lexa sucked in a deep breath through her nose, and let it out through her mouth. 

“Octavia, get her out of here.” 

“Lexa…” Octavia knew there was no fighting Clarke. Whatever Clarke wanted, she got. She always had a knack of making everything turn in her favor, even when hope was lost. She knew that Lexa granted her an impossible task. Lexa knew it too, but she could only try. Her glance crossed Octavia in exasperation.

“That’s an order! Get her the hell out of here!” Octavia nodded in agreeance, rushing toward Clarke.

“No, Lexa!” Clarke grasped Lexa’s elbow tighter. “I don’t trust him.”

“Then trust me.” Lexa focused on Clarke’s lips, then searched her sky-blues. 

“I’m not leaving you!” She shook her head in defiance with every word. She held tighter, then turned to Roan, pursing her lips. “What the hell do you want?”

“Persistent… This is between me and the detective.”

“Yeah? And you’ve intensive bleeding from that wound.” Clarke motioned to his shoulder. Roan glanced down at it, then laid on the smoulder. “I’m the only doctor here, so I say it’s not gonna happen.”

“Octavia!”

“Clarke…” Octavia groaned with an influxation. She charged to her side, then tugged at Clarke’s arm.

“No way! I’m not going anywhere!” Clarke pulled away from Octavia’s clutches, holding her hand in Lexa’s. She wove her fingers through Lexa’s like a strong mesh net. 

“New girlfriend?” Roan cocked his head to the side. 

“Clarke! Your people need you! Your patients!” Lexa’s penetrating gaze probed at Clarke’s defiance.

“Mom can handle it!” She quipped back.

“Clarke…” Lexa squeezed her hand, then let it go. Clarke shook her head, her brow drawing near. Dread sunk through her like a cinderblock in water. “Listen to me for once in your life and get clear!”

“Old girlfriend.”

“You leave her out of this!” Lexa seethed at him through gritted fang. 

“I just wanted to get your attention, Detective. If I wanted to kill you, I would have.” Roan was racked with disdain for Lexa. He was grinding his teeth. The blood kept spilling from his hole. 

“Lexa?” Clarke called out. Lexa centered her balance, about to pounce like a mountain lion on its prey. 

“I’d like to see you try…” She flung herself through the air. 

“Lexa!” Clarke cried. Lexa rushed the distance between Roan and herself, leaping into a kick. She wrapped her leg around Roan’s, buckling his calf. Roan dropped to a knee, then regained balance, tossing the small detective off of him with a backhand smack to the jaw. Lexa dropped like a sack of potatoes, rolling on the floor, then sprung back into action.

She rushed him once more, this time dodging his left hook, sliding her forearm in front of his elbow coming back toward his face. Lexa made herself small, then sprung upward with an uppercut. She hit Roan in the nose. Blood gushed like a faucet. Roan spit out the sanguine in her face, flecking dots all over her like a Jackson Pollock. She wiped her eyes. Roan backhanded her, then kicked her in the gut. His boot removed the padding underneath. It slid out from under her shirt. Lexa groped at it. 

“LEXA!” Clarke came to her. Lexa pushed herself out of Clarke’s care, unable to see anything other than the blind fury penetrating her calm. Roan stood overtop of her. Lexa jerked herself up, kicking her knee into his jaw. He fell backward, droplets of his bloody bone spewed from his mouth. Roan landed on his hands and rear. Lexa lept overtop of him, digging her thumb into his hole, spinning it around. Roan grabbed at her wrist, trying to fling her off. Lexa used her opposite hand to choke him. She held her thumb in place, closing off his airway with the other. Roan whimpered. 

“Lexa, no!” Clarke rushed to her, setting her hands on Lexa’s shoulders. Lexa shrugged them off. “Lexa, you’re better than this! Don’t do it! You’ll get justice, but not like this! Please!”

“Jus drein, jus daun!”

“...No..” Clarke whispered, giving up on Lexa’s fight. Instead, Lexa surprised her. She punched him in the face, knocking him out completely, dragging herself to a stand. Roan laid bleeding, unconscious on the floor underneath her feet. She wiped the blood from her nose, slowly stepping over the Prince of Azgeda. 

“Octavia, cuff this bastard. I’ll be back.” She nodded to Octavia, who pulled out her cuffs from her utility belt. Lexa flashed Clarke a half grin. Clarke’s relief echoed throughout her entire body. Lexa stepped toward her, her vision fogging in and out. 

“Lexa?” Clarke called, noting her waver. Her black blood poured down her stomach, dripping toward her legs. It completely soaked her buttondown. Lexa collapsed to the floor. “LEXA!!” Clarke dropped to her knees in front of her, flipping her on her back, popping the remaining buttons on her shirt. She attempted to staunch the bleeding with the balls of her hand. Lexa’s pool bled into Roans like mixing paints. 

“What the…” Octavia was baffled by what had just happened. Lexa reopened her wounds, popping a few stitches.The fight with Roan finished her off. Clarke kept her hands on her stomach, scanning the room. No medical personnel could be found. She felt hopeless and completely alone, even though Octavia was there. Clarke knew there had to be a gurney around somewhere. She just knew. 

“Help me get her to a bed!” Clarke ordered Octavia with a wavering, frantic tone. Octavia stood overtop of them, stunned to what just happened. She had shot a man for the first time in her life. She was quaking hard, but snapped herself back in line.

“What about him?” Octavia pointed towards Roan bleeding out. 

“Leave him.” Clarke spat at his feet. She hated him. She hated everything about him. If Lexa died, it was his fault. She would kill him herself, so she figured why wait? Letting him bleed out to save one over the other was more appealing. ‘I am become death.’ Clarke thought. “You called me Wanheda once. Now I understand. I choose you.” She breathed in Lexa’s ear. “I’ll always choose you.”

“Clarke, you can’t.” Octavia pleaded. 

“Yes I can.” Clarke was cold. 

“Look at him, he’s dying!”

“So is she!” Clarke manically screeched. Tears built up in her eyes. “Come on, Lexa. Don’t do this to me again. Please, please no. Please. Heda fight this. Fight!” Lexa’s groggy eyes met Clarke’s. She cried out, shifting. Lexa reached her hand up to Clarke’s face. “Don’t move. Please don’t. I will fix you. I promise!” Lexa nodded in agreeance, lowering her hand overtop of Clarke’s. Clarke shuttered. “I need you.” Shuffling boots scuttled around them. Octavia pressed down on Roan’s shoulder. A small team of nurses and two surgeons filed in the area. One of them was Abby. Clarke breathed a sigh of relief. Abby flung herself toward Clarke. 

“What have we got here?” Abby was as collected as she could be with a slight shake in her voice. The attack left everyone rattled. Nyko took over for Octavia. 

“Mom! One shot to the shoulder. Get him.” Abby nodded, observing Nyko’s compressions. “Octavia, help me get her to a bed. Now!”

“Okay.” Octavia rushed down the hall, searching for a gurney. Clarke held onto a shaking Lexa. She’d lost too much blood, but she stayed as still as she could. Drops of salty water lingered down the sides of her temples. 

“Come on, Heda. Don’t you dare give up on me again. Please…” Clarke fell to pieces. She couldn’t hold on in between incoherent sobs. They were like raindrops, dripping down on Lexa’s face, cleaning off the dried specks of plasma. “I love you.” Her face scrunched. Octavia returned with one of the nurses who came, rushing a gurney to the Heda. Abby reached her caress on Clarke’s shoulder. 

“Honey, you need to let her go. You’re too close to this one.”

“No! I’m not letting her go. I’m not leaving her.” Clarke sobbed in Lexa’s chest, keeping the pressure on her. Abby slid her hands underneath Clarke’s pressing down on the wound. 

“Clarke, baby. Just let go. I have her.” Clarke shook her head. “Clarke, please.” Clarke clenched her jaw, unable to breathe. “Clarke?” She let go. She stood back to allow the nurses to lift Lexa to the lowering gurney. They almost had her, but a sudden wisp of a man in white paint charged toward the small group. He sped up, sliding out a knife into the palm of his hand; Lexa’s knife. “Carke!” Abby caught notice of his charge, calling her daughter to get out of the way. It was too late. He met Clarke’s side, piercing the blade through, again and again and again between her ribcage. Clarke stumbled backward, stunned. The Azgeda agent charged toward Octavia, who drew her pistol, firing two rounds. One in the chest, the other between his eyes. He dropped. 

“Mom?” Clarke’s fingers fumbled to her side, pulling up the warm liquid dripping down her side. It bloomed quickly on her scrubs. Clarke sunk to her knees, stunned to the world. It was hot, searing, but she couldn’t feel it. She couldn’t feel anything. 

“CLARKE!!” Abby screeched, rushing toward her daughter. Lexa lay on the floor, turning to swing her restless gaze on Clarke. Clarke swam on her forearms toward Lexa. Lexa tried to pull herself to Clarke. Lexa was shallowly wheezed, crying out for her beloved as frantic boots hastily stomped into the pool around them like a stamp in red and black ink. Clarke reached her hand toward Lexa, as Lexa’s drew near Clarke’s. They didn’t even meet. Clarke’s face faded into a furrow of pain, contorting into a pang of torture, then a stillness. She ceased breathing. Lexa tried to stretch herself toward Clarke, in a maddening panic. She crawled upon her arms, slipping in the plasma to little avail. Clarke had lost too much blood. It just kept spilling out. The blade was long. It must have pierced her lung, maybe even an artery. Lexa didn’t know. She was shaken, screaming out to her. Octavia bent down by Lexa’s side, pulling her back from Clarke. Abby fell to pieces. Nurses charged around. Lexa felt like she was hearing a high pitched shrill in the echo of a tunnel.

“No!” A harrowing plea crippled from her lips. “No! Clarke! No! Let me go!”

“Everything is going to be alright.” Octavia tried to reassure Lexa, restraining her. 

“Clarke! No! Please, save her first!”

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Save her first! Please!” Lexa’s head throbbed as she noted her pulse pump in her ears. Lukewarm crimson pooled around them, combining to where she couldn’t make out which was which Clarke’s and which was Roan’s. Lexa tried with what strength left to pull herself toward Clarke. She still wasn’t breathing. The strain fighting against Octavia’s denial abducted what strength she had left. Lexa’s world faded to black.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (WARNING: Graphic Material)
> 
> Last we saw our fateful heroines, Lexa watched Clarke get stabbed within an explosion! Are they okay? Did Clarke die?! Will Lexa stay this time after Gustus was proven right that being with Lexa could get Clarke killed? 
> 
> Find out more in the latest chapter of ONLY YOU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go ahead, say you're leaving. You can hit me, you can berate me, you can abuse me and use me to your will. I don't care. I don't mind. As long as you're happy, as long as you're safe, that's all that matters, and I couldn't ask for more.

CHAPTER 7  
LEXA: TWO DAYS LATER

 

She paced back and forth outside the dimly lit hall in Arkadia Hospital. She was chomping at the bit, building the nerve to enter THAT room, unable to think or feel or do anything. She was frightened, but numb. The poor girl couldn't believe this had happened. Rubble and debris were being swept away by small teams, leaving traces of residue around the hall of the East Wing. It was barely touched by Azgeda, so the hospital doubled up patients, except for this one in the room where the girl stood outside of. Raven ran around the enclosures, screaming at the team members for not reinforcing the hole in the ceiling perfectly. Abby called her in to work as one of the best mechanics in TonDC. Chief Kane allowed it, especially as a favor to his wife. For her best friend’s mother, there wasn't much Raven wouldn't do, either, especially since Clarke... She nodded at the girl standing outside the room, patting her on the shoulder. She gazed deep in her soul, cutting away then numb tension. A fire built inside her loins. The girl nodded back at Raven.

“Go get that bastard. As far as the Chief is concerned, you were never here. I never saw you.” Raven patted her on the shoulder once more before jogging after two men with steel beams in their paws, taking them to the wrong patch site. The girl pressed down upon the silver handle, kicking the door in. She slammed it shut, then she stormed to the figure chained up in the bed. 

“You said you wanted to talk? Well, talk.” Lexa seethed through gritted teeth. Roan kom Azgeda leaned back, watching the black box overhead. Flashes of blues and greens, then a fusion of red cascaded on him, from the lights. Lexa drew closer to the terrorist, leaning into his sights. He refused to look her in the eye. Lexa flung herself overtop of him, feet firmly on the floor, turning her body almost ninety degrees, resting her hands on the handles of his bed. Roan slowly turned his attention to her. 

“Shouldn’t I have my lawyer present?” His rancid breath choked Lexa, though, she didn’t let that waver her power play. She white-knuckled the railings, in attempts not to strike the man.

“You’ll be lucky to even see anything after I’m done with you.” She threw herself up to a full stand, crossing her arms, pacing the slightly cracked, tile floor. Roan studied her stalk.

“I’m unarmed…” Roan lifted his cuffed hands, exposing the long chains to Lexa. She didn’t care if he was armed or not. She wanted to snap them tighter, cut off the circulation in his wrists. She wanted to make his life a living hell and as uncomfortable as he possibly could be. She wanted to snap his morphine drip, but the nurses would know. She restrained herself, with the full force of a dying star and the spirit of the commanders. If it weren’t for him, Clarke wouldn’t...

“You’re looking better for someone who just reopened her wounds. Can’t say the same thing about that pretty blonde with you.” Roan sucked his teeth in a loud snap. Lexa had enough. She twisted back around, charging toward him. She pressed the pad of her thumb into Roan’s stitches. His nose crinkled, clenching his jaw with the sudden unrest. Lexa felt one of them pop. Lexa gazed down, trembling, ripping his flesh with her salty thumb. The dressing bloomed like a rose in water. His neck craned upward, grinding his teeth like mortar and pestle. Both veins on the side of Roan’s neck bulged, about to tear through his collar. “Talk about police brutality.” He fumed, grasping at her wrist, twisting it into oblivion. Lexa was relentless, not allowing him to make her waver. She pushed in harder. 

“You have roughly ten seconds to explain.” SNAP! Another stitch popped open. “ Ron ai ridiyo op.-speak true-.” She released the pressure. The red overtook the gauze dressing on his shoulder. He clutched at it, bearing his fangs in an uneasy smile.

“How IS that girlfriend of yours?” Roan chuckled, rubbing at the wound. Lexa backhanded him with a strong knuckle, then replaced her thumb once more. SNAP! A third one popped open. She let him go. “Not well, I take it.” He rubbed at the spot. 

“What do you want, Roan kom Azgeda?” Lexa snarled, hissing like a rabid raccoon getting caught in the neighbor’s trash. 

“Immunity.” Roan gulped while Lexa scoffed. “For Costia.” Lexa flung her hands overtop of Roan’s bed, coming eye to eye with him. Her silver-greens bore holes in him like the sea before a hurricane. They were spiteful, cold like she was about to murder. Roan didn’t back down, however fear fluttered around his aura. “I was under duress. There’s laws about that you know.” Lexa bent her elbows down, pushing herself up to a standing position. She paced the floor once more.

“It was nothing personal.” A sudden jabbing fist cut through the air, meeting its mark in Roan’s face. His quaking hands drew toward his blackened nose, spitting out sticky plasma to the side of his bed, staining the tile red. Lexa wasn’t as calm as she once was. She had lost all patience. This was the monster who beheaded Costia; the devil who was responsible for an attack with all of its casualties and for Clarke. 

“Look, I have something you want.” Roan was naisal with his forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose to staunch the bleeding. 

“What could you possibly have that I want?” Lexa crossed her arms and raised her chin. Her veins throbbed in her neck. She was tired of being tugged around in circles. She leaned against the side of the wall, pressing her foot in the wall.

“Seriously, what is going on with you and the blonde? Clarke?!” He pointed his thumb toward the door, refusing to avert his gaze from Lexa. Lexa’s fury built like a ball of red around her, steam pouring from her ears and hate in her heart.

“I’ve heard enough.” Lexa pushed herself off of the wall with an exasperated sigh. She stormed towards the door, ready to leave.

“I can give you Jaha and his wife.” Lexa stopped dead in her tracks, turning her ear toward Roan. “So, that peaked your interest.” Lexa scanned the room. This had to be some sort of dream. Was he really willing to give up the bastard, Jaha and his wife? Lexa couldn't breathe. She wanted to stab Roan slowly for Clarke and for Costia, but she also wanted answers. She was so close to a break in her case, and one testimonial from a high ranking member of a gang would do it. She had never been so torn in her life between honor and duty. The door handle flung open and Lexa caught herself face to face with Anya. First, her surprised eyes shocked the tiny Heda, but then Anya’s fists shook, while her eyes squinted. She darted her gaze from Lexa’s tension to Roan’s exasperation and back. 

“Lexa, what the hell are you doing?!” She studied Roan’s fleeting hand on his shoulder and the other holding the bridge of his nose. Lexa’s fist was covered in the crimson. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

“He’s offered up Jaha and Alie.” Anya crossed her arms while Lexa defended her actions. She didn’t need Anya’s judgement. It wasn’t welcome anyway.

“What?!” Anya released them, frozen with wide eyes. She shook her head. “Look, Lexa, you can’t be interrogating him. You’re on leave! Besides, you’re not exactly unbiased to this asshole.” She pointed her hand, flat palmed, shaking it at Roan with every word. 

“Asshole?” His eyebrows raised, cocking his head to the side, glancing sideways. “Fair enough.” 

“Anya.” Lexa sucked in a deep breath, ready to give a speech defending why she was there and how she was going to stay, even when it could land her into trouble. Anya didn’t bother asking about the state that Roan was in. Frankly, Lexa knew she didn’t care. But, she had a duty, and this wasn’t the way to get answers.

“No! Get the hell out of here!” Anya pushed Lexa toward the door. Lexa slogged away, her shoulders slump and tail between her legs. “The Chief would fire you for this, if he knew!” Anya lightly pushed her. “Now!”

“Just…”

“NOW!” Anya pushed her a little harder at the shoulder toward the entrance of the door. She was done. She was completely done with Lexa’s impulsive behavior. Lexa knew that she wasn’t acting like a Heda, rather a spoiled child looking for revenge. She didn’t care. After Costia, she was allotted her pound of flesh. After Clarke, she was allotted her blood. Blood must have blood is the way of the church, but as a cop, it wasn’t. She was torn between duty and what she was owed. Lexa clenched her fists, bearing her fangs toward Anya. 

“Be sure to get that bastard to talk.” Lexa’s unblinking focused eye bore holes in Anya. Anya hadn’t seen this wild desire of pure hatred and a cold blooded murder from her partner since she responded to the call about Costia. Lexa knew Anya didn’t want her to do anything stupid, but she didn’t care. She needed to take a walk before she did anything stupid. 

“I will let you know. Now, get the hell out of here!” Lexa glanced over Anya’s shoulder back toward Roan then back at her partner. She nodded, sulking out of the door. The door slammed shut. Lexa leaned against the wall, resting her head up, closing her scorned eyes. She sighed heavily, opening them once more to observe Raven work on the wires overhead. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose. Raven noticed Lexa, nodding at her, and Lexa pushed herself off the side of the door, charging toward her. 

“Anything I could do to help?” Lexa sighed. 

“Yeah, hand me that wrench.”

 

CLARKE

 

Clarke’s groggy eyes fluttered open with a piercing blinding light poking through the blinds in Arkadia Hospital. She sucked in a deep breath, realizing she was hit. She had on a blue and yellow specked gown, throwing the covers from her feet. She tore the breathing tube out of her nose, scanning the area surrounding her room. 

An IV drip with two needles, one for fluids, the other for a transfusion sunk in Clarke’s vein with a blue butterfly like tube attached to the see-through bags. The stabwounds were inline with one another, wrapped in a white sterilizing pad. It wrinkled Clarke’s skin with each movement as she pulled it over with her fumbling fingers, leaning toward her side to study it. A light pink line bled through the white. Clarke jerked up, her head throbbing harder than before. She ripped the IVs from her arm with a sharp prick, kicking her legs over the bed. She had to find Lexa. She just had to. 

Pressing the pads against the ground, the cold from the tile on her bare feet shocked her system. Clarke struggled to stand, her knees buckled under her like a newborn calf. The machines hooked to the IVs began to violently beep. Clarke collapsed, pulling herself across the eggshell tile with her forearms. Abby damn near broke down the door, rushing to her side.

“Clarke, get back in your bed.” Abby picked her up to a sit.

“Where is Lexa?!” Clarke pleaded. 

“Clarke, you need to rest.”

“Please, Mom, where is Lexa?! I know she didn’t make it... I need to see her!”

“Clarke, you don’t understand.” Abby lifted Clarke, shifting her arm around her neck, as she scooped her baby up, bridal style, placing her back where Clarke crawled from. Abby sat next to her, stroking Clarke’s hair behind her ear. It was damp with sweat. “She’s fine, Clarke. She’s okay. You’ve both lost a lot of blood. But, she woke up yesterday after everything happened, asking about you. She’s able to get around on her own. You’ve been out for two days.”

“What?!” Clarke’s eyes dilated with the realization.

“She’s alive.”

“I-I thought… I thought she was dead!” Clarke’s voice cracked in a squeak as the rivers flooded downstream of her heart shaped face. “I thought she was dead.”

“Shh…” Abby wrapped her arm around Clarke’s head, pulling it to her chest, rocking her back and forth. Clarke’s trembling hand automatically raised to her quivering lip, covering her gaping mouth. A moan crippled from Clarke’s lips that was almost inhuman. “I know, honey. I know… I've got you.” Abby hushed her daughter in a lull, rocking her back and forth. She stroked her hair at the ear, pressing Clarke tight against her chest. Abby kissed the top of her head, holding her mouth to her hair. She held her baby girl tight. Clarke knew she didn’t care how old she was. Abby wasn’t ever going to let her go. She could be eighty and Abby would still hold her only daughter as tight as she did the first day she laid eyes on her. Abby’s pocket buzzed. She set Clarke back upright before she pulled out the pager, scanning the contents. “Baby, I’ve gotta go.”   
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Clarke asked.

“Yes. Get some rest.” Abby kissed her forehead, then drew her into her loving arms, holding on tight. She wiped Clarke’s eyes with the pads of her thumbs, then stood up, patting her knee. “I mean it, Clarke. Lexa will come see you, okay? You don’t have to go looking for her. She’s up.” Clarke nodded to her mother. Abby stumbled out of the door. Clarke laid back down, sobbing in her pillow, clasping her fingers around the rough, white case. Lexa was okay. Clarke couldn’t believe it that even after everything, Lexa was okay. She needed to see it with her own eyes to fully believe it. She hiccuped within each sob. Clarke quaked with each crippling sob until she finally drifted off into slumber.

After a few moments of resting her eyes, Clarke awoke to a startling knock at the door. She set herself upright with her hands, careful of the searing sharp presence in her side.

“Come in.” She addressed the pounding. She wished it to be Lexa, but her air was off. It was another person. It was…

“Oh, thank God you’re okay!” The tall figure flung open the door. She held flowers in her palm, and a balloon saying “Get Well Soon!” in the other. She set them atop the table nearest where Clarke resided. The woman rushed toward Clarke, clasping her hand, kissing her palm, then stroked the back of it. She wasn’t going to let go. She wasn’t going to leave Clarke’s side for anything. Clarke fidgeted in her bed.

“Niylah…” Clarke exhaled exasperated. It wasn’t the one person Clarke longed for. Sudden guilt overtook her. She wasn’t surprised. She knew this would happen, and she didn’t want to have that hard talk with this girl. She was nice, caring, everything that anyone could ever want, but she wasn’t for Clarke. She wasn’t okay. The guilt wrapped its bony fingers around Clarke, squeezing the life from her. 

“When I heard…” Niylah’s apprehension creeped in each caress. 

“Niylah…” Clarke cut her off. “Please.” She waved her hand to the side of the bed. Niylah nodded. 

“Okay?” She sat down, nervous. Clarke guessed Niylah knew what she was about to say. Clarke wasn’t her normal self with her, and they both felt the tension. Niylah prepared herself for THAT talk. Clarke slid up on the bed on her elbows, slowly climbing to a full sit. Niylah set her hand upon her knee with a solemn glow. 

“Look, I like you but…”

“You can’t. I figured.” Niylah gulped. She was upset, but kind and understanding. Clarke didn’t believe she deserved her. She was too good. “It’s not Finn, is it?” She pursed her mouth in a half-smile. Niylah was sober. Clarke averted her gaze from Niylah. 

“No.” Clarke was apologetic. She knew she let Niylah down, and didn’t want to beat around the bush. Niylah took a deep breath, holding herself composed. 

“She’s just gonna leave again.” Niylah clutched her silky fingers in the palm of her hand. “Lexa.”   
She choked after a moment of silence between the two. Clarke nodded, agreeing with her. Lexa had a tendency to run when the goings get tough, and they were as tough as they could be, but she couldn't do it. She couldn’t put Niylah through what Lexa did to her. Niylah had seen Lexa and Clarke interact when Lexa pushed Clarke out of the way from the crumbling infrastructure. Niylah hid under a table in an open room, unable to move or say anything. Only someone so in love with another person would ever tell that person that they wouldn’t leave the other and if they died, at least they were together. Niylah tried to shake the thought, but a tear slid down her face.

“I know. But, no one wants to be with someone who’s in love with someone else.” Niylah glanced up at her, stars in her eyes. Clarke set her hand overtop of Nylah's which stayed on Clarke’s knee. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. These things just happen sometimes and they can’t be helped.” Niylah sucked in a deep breath. “I’m glad you told me instead of stringing me along. I do care about you, Clarke. Just…” She jumped up, sliding her hand from underneath Clarke’s. “Take care of yourself, okay?” She leaned over, brushing her lips across her temple, careful not to disturb the cut on Clarke’s cheek. She flung herself out of the room, unable to look back. Clarke didn’t want her to turn around. It was over. She was relieved, but at the same time, upset. She was upset that she had just lost a friend in the process, but maybe someday, they’d be okay again. Niylah was perfect, but she needed something more. Something with feral desire. She didn’t want to play it safe. She’d rather be sorry than safe. Clarke was addicted to sin, and Lexa was the biggest one.

Niylah filed out of the room, throwing open the door in a stampede of distressful hurt. She came face to face with the one person in the world she never wanted to see. Lexa held her arm up, her fist balled about to knock. Niylah’s features instinctively scrunched. She slammed past Lexa, knocking her backward with her shoulder. Niylah clutched her mouth with her hand, booking it down the hall. Lexa cocked her head to the side, following Niylah’s silhouette growing smaller and smaller. She returned her attention toward Clarke.

“I-is this a bad time? I can come back, you know.” Lexa pointed her bloody thumb over her shoulder toward Niylah. She was worried, but relief overtook her seeing Clarke alive and awake. Clarke scanned her up and down, lost in the revories of broken promise and guilt. But, all of that faded when Lexa stepped inside. 

“No. Don’t go.” Clarke reached out her hand. “Please.” Lexa limped the distance. She was strong, assertive and so damn perfect with every imperfection. She was exactly what Clarke was looking for. Clarke observed her every stride, so full of life. She was okay, that’s all that mattered. Her chest sunk deep into her ribcage. She tried as hard as she could to keep it together. Lexa sunk her hand in Clarke’s. She closed her mournful eyes. All worry melted like ice in hot water. Lexa was okay. 

“I thought I lost you.” Lexa squeezed her quaking fingertips in Clarke’s. She was calm, collected even, but Clarke knew better. Lexa was trying to keep it together. She was trying so damn hard, and Clarke didn’t want her to be brazen. Lexa didn’t have to be with her. She didn’t have to ever again. Clarke wasn’t going to leave her. She would chase her to the ends of the earth if she had to. “I thought…”

“Costia.” Clarke filled in the gaps. Lexa slowly nodded. Clarke stared at her beloved fighting back tears. She was so strong and collected that it baffled her how much stoic suffering Lexa could take. She was a rock in the quicksand, a lifejacket in the middle of the sea. Clarke loved her more for it.

“Sometimes, I think Gustus was right.” Lexa sighed.

“Don’t you dare.” Clarke held on tighter, clasping her wrist with her opposite hand. She pulled it up toward her heart. Lexa felt Clarke’s pulse beat in her fingertips. Her lips fell ajar. 

“You got stabbed! I told you to run and you didn’t.” She was very matter of fact. Clarke was waiting for her to run again, but she was ready to run after her. She didn’t care how far, she wasn’t going to leave. She wasn’t prepared to lose her. She’d do anything just to talk to her. She’d stay awake just to watch her breathe if Lexa laid by her side. She couldn’t go through losing her again. She couldn’t. 

“I won’t abandon you.” Clarke clutched hold of Lexa for dear life. 

“You were reckless.”

“So were you!” Lexa snapped her gaze at Clarke’s stare. With an unrelenting force, she refused to let her go. She was never letting go again. “Look, we can go round and round, but I’m here to stay. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Clarke was hurt by this. She shook her head backward. Lexa sucked in a deep breath, purching herself on the bed next to Clarke. Clarke sat up to be at the same level. “I heard… What You said.”

“Oh…” Clarke couldn’t meet Lexa’s search. Every word was another dagger in her, and she couldn’t bare to look at the girl who was about to leave again. She was the one who made her heart soar. The matter of which depended on the spelling. 

“Did you?”

“Mean it?” Clarke finally searched her longing gaze. She wasn’t sure what Lexa was thinking. She expected Lexa to leave, but, now, she wasn’t so certain. “I always have.” Lexa nodded. Her glance flickered a bright burning light when she stared at Clarke with a heart full of love. It was like the blooming of a morning glory on a crisp autumn morn; like she was locked in a bunker for years, and she finally was seeing the sun and the colors of the trees, breathing in the fresh air, and smelling the salt of the seas all at the same time, for the very first time. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Clarke searched Lexa, furrowing her brow. 

“Because… I don’t want to look away.” Lexa’s mournful sorrow crept along the contours of her long face as she spoke. Clarke moved her fingertips across Lexa’s forehead. Lexa held hers against Clarke’s side, gingerly pressing on the stabwound. She set the other on Clarke’s face. Clarke carried her caress on top of her buttoned shirt to THAT spot. She shuttered. “I’m afraid if I do… you’ll disappear.” Clarke drug Lexa’s warmth to her cheek, then bowed her head in Lexa’s hand, pressing her soft lip against her cool skin. The top of Lexa’s chest shuttered deep inside her ribcage from the light pressures. 

“Lexa…”

“I’m just so damn terrified that this is just a delusion and when I wake, you’ll be gone.” Clarke fluttered her hand to Lexa’s still pressed against her split cheek, which was set with a few butterfly bandages. She squeezed it tight. 

“I… I thought you were…” Clarke called out, bowing her face in Lexa’s grasp. She let go of Lexa. 

“I watched you die…” The words left a lump in the back of Lexa’s throat. She choked on them, clenching her teeth. Clarke looked down upon her hands, studying them. Lexa gingerly curled hers in Clarke’s, loosely weaving them together like the first stitch of a tapestry. Clarke lifted her chin up with two fingers of her opposite hand, bearing deep into Lexa’s soul.

“I’m right here.” She placed her forehead against Lexa’s, who closed her silver-greens. “I’m right here.” She curled that hand around the back of Lexa’s neck, cradling her head. 

“I just can’t take it… If I lose you again. I just can’t…” Clarke opened her mournful lids. The room filled the voids of silence. They stared at one another for what seemed to be an eternity. “You said maybe someday, we can be okay again.” Lexa broke the silence. She let go of Clarke. Terrorizing dread fluttered in Clarke’s chest. She needed to touch her. If she didn’t, Lexa wasn’t real. This was a delusion and she’d wake up at any time. She felt Lexa’s words deeply, recounting what Abby had said earlier. What if she was in a coma? What if this was really a dream and when she woke, Lexa would be gone? Worst of all, what if it wasn’t and Lexa was leaving again?

“Lexa, don’t go. Please! Please…” She reached for her to no avail. Lexa raised her chin, collecting her panic into a still calm. 

“I’m not.” Lexa sunk to her knees, scooping up Clarke’s hand once more. “I swear fealty to you, Doctor Griffin of Arkadia. I vow to lay down my life if I must, and I vow to protect and serve you and your people. I am an officer of the law first and foremost, but second, I’m yours to command.”

“What is this?” Clarke shook her head back and forth. Lexa rose from her knees, leaning in close to Clarke.

“I’m done running.” Lexa sat upon the bed next to her beloved. She swept her damp hair around her ears. Lexa’s lips fell ajar. Clarke searched her entire frame. “I’m done running from you. It’s time I ran toward you.” Clarke couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “It’s my duty to run towards danger. You’re the greatest danger I face.” 

“Lexa?”

“What I mean is, Love is weakness.” Clarke jerked backward. She knew it. She knew Lexa would say something like this and leave again. She also knew she’d let her. Clarke had hurt her enough. She deserves to be happy, no matter how much it killed her. Clarke was dying with every word, but she'd chase her anyway. Wherever Lexa ran, Clarke would give her space, but always be just close enough to fall back on when she needed saving, even from herself. Lexa sensed her apprehension. She knew Clarke thought she was going to run again. She dug into the depths of her soul, pouring out her bleeding heart. “You’re dangerous because you ARE my weakness. But… I’ve come to realize, that weakness grants me my greatest strength. I’m not leaving you. I’m not leaving ever again. You’re my beautiful disaster, Wanheda. And, I…”

Clarke grabbed her by the mouth, yanking her at the opening of her buttondown. She gradually wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck, then gently tugged her back down. Clarke sunk into her bed, releasing Lexa’s cool lip, peering into her misty silver-greens. Droplets crashed upon her face. Lexa drew back in, mindlessly searching Clarke’s side. She winced when Lexa caught the wound by accident. Lexa recoiled with a worrisome sorrow. 

“I love you too.” Clarke sighed. She pulled her back in. Lexa gently flung her leg over top of Clarke’s bottom half, bringing it over in slow motion, like she was climbing the beast of a 103cc Harley-Davidson, completely clad in leather. She grinded her hips within Clarke’s clapping her at the ears, leaning in for a gentle caress. She breathed in her essence, hovering overtop of Clarke’s lip in an intoxicating passion. They barely brushed against one another. She used the pad of her thumb to wipe away Clarke’s tear sliding down her heart shaped face. Clarke didn’t care. She scrunched her face, while lunging forward. 

Lexa pushed her back in the bed with her fingertips, grinding her hips within Clarke’s once more, connecting her reach to Clarke’s crane. Lexa wove her fingers between Clarke’s, interlocking in a gentle clasp. She rubbed the top of her thumb on Clarke’s. Their noses brushed lightly with the draw of their moist lips sticking together when they separated. Lexa sunk down to Clarke’s side, curling herself up within Clarke’s grasp. She wasn’t going anywhere. She beamed with a sense of belonging. Clarke sighed, holding Lexa’s face. She drew in Lexa’s bottom lip. Lexa’s smile drew toward Clarke’s awaiting mouth. Lexa was okay, and that’s all that Clarke could ever ask for.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been a month since we met our fateful heroines. Within that month, Azgeda attacked Arkadia. Tensions of the war were at an all time high. 
> 
> How will Clarke and Lexa handle everything?  
> Will they finally end the war?  
> What will happen now that Lexa has finally chosen to stay?
> 
> Find out more in the continuation of Only You!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Victory stands on the back of Sacrifice."-Commander Lexa Season 2, the 100.

Chapter 8  
CLARKE: A WEEK LATER

Stomping boots. That is all that rang through Arkadia Hospital. They pressed down, left right, left right with an intense purpose, claiming the wing like they belonged to them. The man in the boots marched with a fury. Dogtags dangled from around his thick neck. His navy blue BDU pants swished with each prance. His belt held them in place, looming around his hips like a parachute loosely fitting around. The ends stuffed themselves in those clunky combat boots. The man wore a light-brown t-shirt, neatly tucked in his odie-green belt. The dog tags menacingly clinked around with every stride. His messy black hair curled around his ears. It wasn’t a regulation haircut, however, over in the box, they could get away with more than they could on the homefront. 

The man noted a woman, shorter than him, stocking shelves. She was slender in green scrubs with a white, long sleeved undershirt, rolled up to the bends of her elbows. Her blond hair set in a messy bun, fused together with her pink strands. The man stormed over toward her with haste. He stood at attention for a moment. The woman didn’t notice him. He inched closer. She still didn’t notice him. She turned her back toward him. The man sighed, shaking his head with an amused grin, drawing his muscular forearms around her frame, covering her eyes. The woman jumped in a startle, dropping a few boxes.

“Guess who.” The man playfully whispered in Clarke’s ear. He set his chin on her shoulder. Her tense relaxed, replaced with excited anticipation. 

“Bellamy!” Clarke spun around in his arms, quick as she could and threw hers around his neck. She held on tight, pressing the tips of her toes up to his level. Bellamy clutched her from around the waist, lifting her off the ground. He buried his face in her neck. She smelled like lilacs and vanilla. 

“Hey there, Princess!” Clarke planted her lips on the light dusting of scruff on his cheek. Bellamy released her, clutching her at the elbows, giving her a once over. “You’re lookin’ good!” He laughed. Clarke grinned ear to ear, retracting from his welcome. She turned to pick up the boxes she dropped, but Bellamy was faster. He bent over, scooping them up, then gingerly rested them in her claws. Clarke set them in the rack. Bellamy crossed his arms, staring at her side. “Heard you’re gonna have a wicked scar.”

“Octavia told you about it?” Clarke rested her hand on the rack, counting each box, then checking it off on her notepad for the inventory. She wasn’t allowed back in the OR until she was completely healed, so she was reduced to the jobs of the orderlies. Clarke was exhausted from her constant battles she couldn’t win with her mother to get back in the action. She was just glad Bellamy was home and safe. He was a welcome distraction. 

“Always the peacemaker.” Bellamy shook his head, waving his hand in his arms for emphasis. “Stupid, but a peacemaker nonetheless.” He had heard about everything that happened. Octavia kept him in the loop over video chat before his flight back to TonDC.

“It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done.” Clarke flashed him a grin, peering up from her clipboard.

“Get stabbed? Nah, I’ll pass.” Bellamy half smiled, half laughed at the notion. He loved to tease Clarke, and she knew it. Bellamy often graded on her last nerves, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. He was the brother she always wanted but never had. 

“So-where is Octavia?”

“Guess.”

“Lincoln.” Clarke didn’t even have to ask. She should have known better, but she was preoccupied. If it weren’t for Lincoln, Octavia’d never leave her big brother’s side. She’d refuse to leave him ever again. Octavia always trailed him like a lost puppy following a kid home from grade school. Clarke always thought it was cute. She wanted that kind of relationship with someone, and Bellamy was the closest thing to a brother she had. She did feel somewhat uncomfortable that he made hints about being more than friends, but she liked the attention. 

“I don’t even wanna think about it.” Bellamy shuttered. He raised his hands in annoyance, unable to shake the thought of his baby sister and his battle buddy going at it like rabbits. Clarke laughed at the disgusted horror written all over his face. As she chuckles, a tall, black haired woman in a leg brace stormed around the hall with frayed wires in her hands from the overhead lights. She was focused, and didn’t really realize anything or anyone around her until…

“Raven Reyes!” Raven perked up to Bellamy’s call. Her pursed lips crept to a wide, tooth filled smile. She ran towards the bulky man, glistening with sweat. She dashed into his arms, resting her ear on his chest as they rocked back and forth, lifting their legs with each sway. “Man, it’s been a while!” Bellamy’s smile crept wider with her. He rested his hands on his hips. 

“You were missed too!” She gave him another side armed hug. “Hey, what’s this about me being a bad influence?” She darted her eyes back and forth, her warm smile still crinkled across her face. 

“Well, uh… You know.”

“Relax! I’m just kidding! Come on, Bellamy, keep up!” Raven lightly smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand. She was so damn happy to see one of her best friends and roommates alive and well. Clarke stood around the two, grinning ear to ear. “Hey, Clarke. I’m gonna need a new grounding plug and a slot channel strut. Know where the Contractor is?”

“Oh.. Um, Mom fired him.” Clarke was apologetic. She knew how Raven would feel about HIM when she found out. She didn’t want to see HIM again after their one night stand a few years back.“Sinclair was needed elsewhere. There was another contracting job that he was better suited for. Sorry.” Raven blew hard. She barely saw her foster father. Clarke knew she was disappointed. 

“How the hell am I supposed to fix this, then?!” She held up the frayed wires, dangling them in front of Clarke’s face. Clarke half smiled. She was annoyed with the waving, so she didn’t care anymore with the news about HIM. 

“She brought in Wick.” Clarke laughed. Bellamy turned his blushing face to the side, holding in his laughter. Raven had been walked in on by Clarke and Bellamy while Raven and Wick went at it on the family couch. They had to get the thing steam cleaned afterword. The visage of the memory of Wick’s bare ass haunted their minds. 

“Kyle?! You’ve gotta be joking!” Raven’s smile fell. She shook her head, her face rosing. 

“Nope.” Clarke tried to hold back her laughter. She couldn’t handle it. She let a little chuckle slip with a trumpeting of her lips. Bellamy glanced away. Clarke was sure he was going to lose control.

“Goddamn it, Griffin! We need a contractor, not an engineer!” Raven slapped the frayed wires against her thigh. She was a bitter mess about her one night stand with him, especially right she left Finn and slept with Bellamy. She told Clarke she’d never let another man make her feel as powerless and unwanted again, so she’d rather have her fun and leave. Wick was a different sort. He got under her skin and made her think twice about friends with benefits. Wick was two years her junior, and one of the best engineers in TonDC.

“Aren’t they practically the same thing?” Clarke cocked her head to the side, half confused, half jerking Raven around. She knew the difference, but there were only slight differences. They both built things, and she agreed with her mother’s choice.

“Are you? What did you?” She breathed out an exasperated sigh. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. Where is he?” Just as she spoke, Wick glided down the hallway with blueprints under his arms. His messy blond mop clung to his forehead with the residue of sweat from running around the entirety of the West Wing. “I speak and he appears.” Raven pointed her hand toward Wick, then slapped it on her thigh. She chased after him. “Hey dipshit, wait up!” Raven was gone in a wisp, leaving Bellamy and Clarke alone. 

“Good to see some things haven’t changed.” He studied her strides after him, smacking him in the ass with the frayed wires. Wick spun around, probably said something sarcastic. Raven smacked him once more. Clarke couldn’t make out what they were talking about.

“You’d be surprised.” Clarke observed Wick catch her by the chin, coming in for a light kiss. Raven fell into it for a moment, then snapped to her senses. She slapped him across the face. Clarke grinned ear to ear with a sad distant stare. 

“Are you okay?” Bellamy rang with concern. He caught Clarke at the elbow, pulling her to the side when a cart full of repair equipment rolled by. 

“Yeah, why?” Clarke granted her undivided attention to Bellamy. He leaned on one leg, drawing closer to the girl. 

“Well, Finn, then saving your ex, then getting stabbed.” He read Clarke’s disapproval. “It’s a little much, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” She brushed him off. 

“Clarke.”

“I just don’t get why everyone has to always ask me that. I’m not some charity case. Okay?” Bellamy shook his head back, drawing in closer to her. Clarke read his growing concern creeping across his face like a road closure sign on the highway. “I have to get back to work.” Bellamy drew Clarke in close, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. He released her, swooping loose ends of her mane out of her face, behind her ears. His lips parted. 

“Just don’t work too hard, okay Princess?” Clarke clenched her jaw, creeping into a half smile, nodding at him. 

“Your room’s already made up.” Clarke cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows raising, lashes fluttering. She pressed the soles of her shoes against the floor, launching herself backward. 

“Thanks.” Bellamy sucked in a deep breath through his nose. “See you at home?”

“Yeah. If I can get off on time. It’s been pretty hectic here since the attack so…”

“I got it.” Bellamy wrang his hands, stepping backward himself. “I’ll see you then.” Clarke granted him a quick smirk before spinning on her heel down the hallway after Raven and Wick. Bellamy set his hands on his hips for a moment, bowing his head. He ran his hands through his hair, pulling down on his chin and lips in a praying motion, then took off in the opposite direction. 

 

LEXA

 

They lingered in front of the two way mirror, building up the courage to enter the room. They contemplated how to approach the situation. Lexa blew hot air into the palms of her hands, staring at the cuffed man, who craned his neck upward, staring at the popcorn tiled ceiling. Two wooden chairs set opposite of him. He was smiling. Lexa’s skin boiled staring at every contour of his chiseled jaw. Anya refused to let her go in until she’s calmed down. For Lexa, this was personal. She wanted him dead, not just sitting pretty cuffed to the metal bar in front of them. Anya wasn’t even sure if it was a good idea to bring her into the room, but she was desperate for answers. 

“He’d only talk with you.” She finally spoke after a minute of silence between the two. 

“Figures.” Lexa crossed her arms. She wished she finished the job in his room, but she, too, needed answers. She needed information on the distributors, Jaha and Alie. They were practically untouchable as politicians, and that notion sickened Lexa the most. Jus Drein Jus Daun wouldn’t be achieved when they are leading the way. Lexa gained every ounce of strength she had to not attack Roan. She flung open the door, charging in. “You said something about Jaha and Alie?” She slapped a file down on the table with a high pitched plop. Roan gazed up at her features from below, studying her stern composure. 

“I might have.” He sucked his teeth. 

“I’m not looking to get jerked around.” Lexa slammed her palms on the desk, leaning over top of Roan. He jerked backward. “Talk.” Roan rose his glance toward Lexa studying her every feature. She was brazen, determined even, but there was a burning desire behind those silver-greens: the desire to kill the man sitting in front of her.

“Only if I have immunity from the Costia case.” He blew in her face. Lexa jerked forward, ready to strike.

“You son of a…”

“Lexa. Control.” Anya warned her partner. She wasn’t about to let Lexa get in trouble with the disciplinary board, especially after everything she’s been through. 

“Still touchy.” Roan laughed in her face. Anya had enough. She backhanded him in a loud snap. Her ring caught the soft of his cheek, tearing away the flesh. The red upon his features bubbled like the fleeting warmth on a winter’s day. Lexa’s lids flashed awake to full attention. 

“Control?” She cocked her head to the side. 

“That felt good…” Anya stretched out her knuckle, opening and closing her grasp. Lexa pursed her lips tight, clasping her hands in front of her, standing back at attention. 

“There’s laws against that.” Roan lowered his face to the table, wiping the blood from where the ring caught, on the back of his palm. He sat back upright. “I know my rights.” 

“Not when you’ve committed an act of domestic terrorism.” Anya folded her arms against her chest. 

“Touche.” Roan nodded, cocking his head to the side in the process. Lexa knew he wasn’t done yet. Roan was never done until he got what he wanted. 

“Request for immunity denied.” Lexa slid the file from the metal table, lifting it with her ridiculously long fingers. She tucked it underneath her arm, turning toward the door. She needed to assess the situation before continuing. Steam spewed from her ears with every glance from the killer. 

“Then, I won’t give up any information.” Lexa stopped dead in her tracks. Anya leaned back on her heel, glaring at the Azgeda prince. “Look, Detective Woods, I feel terrible about it. I do. I was under duress.” Lexa rolled her eyes, disgusted by what she was hearing. “I was about to be killed, myself if I didn’t. I’ll sign whatever statement you need.”

“A confession would be nice.” She stalked her prey sitting in the oak chair in front of her. She knew he probably was losing circulation in his legs sitting there that long. He bounced his knees in a repetitive tick. She knew he was about to crack. It was only a matter of time. 

“That would be damning.” His glare traveled with unnerving thoroughness. Lexa stopped short, kicking out his chair from under him. He slid backward, falling out. Roan’s shoulders buckled under the weight of his fall. A loud snap rang out. A dark spot bubbled through his gray shirt where he was shot. He struggled, pressing his elbows into the hard metal desk, setting himself upon his knees. Anya pushed the chair next to him. He stood to a crouch, resting upon it once more. Anya shook her head at Lexa, one heavy brow slanted in strong disapproval.

“I’ve heard enough.” Lexa seethed through grinding fang. 

“I’ll give you want you want.” He pleaded to her denial. 

“We will find another way. You’re not gonna get away with murdering Costia.” Lexa paced the floor, ready to strike once more. She enjoyed the power she held over him. She enjoyed every second of his discomfort, the way he blead. She was intoxicated by the sudden vengeance flowing out her pores. 

“Really? Not even wen I know about your little Trikru spy?” Roan spat out, with a smug call. It was menacing, like a serial killer’s stalking threat. Anya’s entire core tensed. Lexa refused to give away her sudden surprise. 

“What are you talking about?” Lexa played dumb with him. She wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand. 

“Give me immunity for Costia and Indra keeps her head. Hell, I’ll still give up Alie and Jaha as incentive.” Roan shrugged. 

“You lie.” Lexa lunged forward, ready to strike at him. She held herself back, clenching her quaking fists. 

“M-maybe we should talk about this, Lexa.” Anya shot her alarm to Lexa. She was gonna crack. Lexa had to get her the hell out of there. Anya’s panic grew larger at an alarming rate. Lexa nodded back at her partner, reassuring her. Anya shuffled out of the door. 

“You do that.” Roan squinted his smolder at Lexa. She snarled, sauntering out the door, slamming it shut. Anya dug holes in the floor, pacing back and forth with her arms crossed. She bounced up and down with each stride. Lexa observed her. 

“Well that could have gone better…” Lexa was mostly disappointed within herself. She lost control of her training, her emotions and being a source of strength and judgement. She wanted to go back in, completely collected like she usually was, but this time was personal. Every other case, every other interrogation was a slam dunk. She got her perp, she made them talk, and she got a conviction. Roan was different. He knew exactly what buttons to press, and what would give her a reaction to attack rather than use her head. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. No way in hell would she ever give him immunity for Costia. He almost killed Clarke! It wasn’t directly him, but under his command. He was the instrument of the attack, and she wasn’t about to let the killer walk, but she was also giving his lawyers more to let him. She exhaled hard, resting her forearms on her high hip bones, clasping them. 

“How the hell does he know?” Anya uttered with a rattling jolt. She wrung her hands together, pausing at the two way mirror, studying him. Lexa stepped forward, setting herself next to her partner, glancing back at Roan. He rested his head on his arm, rubbing underneath his shot wound. Lexa knew she should probably send in an EMT to dress it, however, she wasn’t done with him. She wanted him to suffer a little while longer. She was owed that much. 

“She’s been compromised. We need to tell Kane and pull her out. Now.” Lexa spun around, pressing the soles of her feet on the tile under her, facing the direction of Kane’s office. 

“We pull her out right now and she’s dead either way.” Anya clutched her parther’s wrist before she was out of reach. Lexa stopped short, craning her neck to the side, scanning Anya’s shoulder. “She’s made her way to Titus’s second. Roan has something on the supplier. We arrest them, we cut off that head, and both gangs will go through withdrawal and implode on themselves. Not only will the addiction take over, but their commerce will collapse.” Lexa turned back around, completely, facing her head on. “Titus will surface again. He has to, and I’m guessing Roan knows this. It’s smart.”

“We can’t risk it.” Lexa shook her head. “He’s trying to extort a police officer.”

“But he didn’t want immunity from the terrorist attack. Why?” Lexa knew exactly why. It was the same reason Costia was killed: the Queen of Azgeda willed it. She was threatened by her Heda title, threatened of her zeroing in on her activity to put her away for good. Roan may not have been personal with Costia, but Nia made it so. The only way she could strike back was through Nia’s pride and joy, and if it meant torturing the man who administered the killing blow, she would have her pound of flesh. Lexa was owed it.

“To get to me. It’s a play I would have done in his shoes.” Anya’s concern strengthened. She handed out a pity filled nod. “They must have wronged Nia. He’s loyal to his mother.” She used her thumb to point to Roan. 

“Lexa, we can’t lose another officer.” Anya pleaded. Lexa knew what Roan wanted, but she wasn’t going to give it. No matter how many times Anya begged, blood must have blood. 

“Then what would you have me do?” Lexa foolishly filled the awkward silence with an answer she already knew Anya would retort with. 

“Let him go.” Lexa knew it. She knew exactly what her partner was going to say. She rolled her eyes, turning away from her. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” 

“How can you?! He killed Costia! She was my fiance; YOUR friend!” Lexa was nauseous. Bile crept in her scorched throat, twisting the nerves squirming in her stomach. 

“I know, but we’re so close. We need to keep our agents safe, Heda.” Anya half shouted. She needed to get through to her, and Lexa knew she was right. She had a duty to uphold to her people and save the living. But, it was also her job as a cop to avenge the dead. If it was to save Clarke, she would pardon him faster than the speed of light. But, it was her friend and Anya’s mentor. Indra followed Lexa in the church, committing her every whim to law. 

“I’d feel more comfortable talking to Kane first.” Lexa was torn.

“Kane doesn’t need to know.” Anya searched Lexa’s soul. Lexa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“I’ve heard enough of this.” She raised both of her hands, flicking her wrists to stop Anya from speaking further. 

“We will get him, I promise.” Lexa pursed her lips, squinting, coming inches away from Anya.

“So, it’s only okay that it’s my people who bleed? Costia was mine. Clarke… The point is, when it comes to my people, my loved ones, you want me to stand back and turn a blind eye?” Anya took a step backward, fearful of what Lexa might do. She was faster, stronger, and could finally take her on and win. Lexa’s tolerance for what she called “bullshit” was at an all time high, however, when it came to her people, she was a time bomb ready to explode. Anya just had to figure out which wire to cut before the detonation. 

“I’m trying to keep everyone safe. She’s gone, Lexa. She’s gone and you have to accept that. Indra isn’t. Clarke isn’t. Our duty is to protect our people; ALL of our people! You know that!” Anya pleaded. 

“It’s Costia!” Lexa stood fast. 

“It’s Indra too!” Lexa backed down, casting her glow toward the floor. Anya cleared her throat. “We need her. She’s our friend!”

“I know…” Lexa swallowed the lump in her throat. There was no question Anya was right, but she didn’t want her to be. The way to avenge Costia was to stop the damn war and Roan delivered a solution on a silver platter.

“Then, you need to grant him immunity. It’s not my call on this one, Heda. She was yours. Be the bigger person. Blood will have blood, but you must concede this battle to win the war.” Anya set a reassuring hand on Lexa’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry…” She muttered out of Anya’s earshot, directing it toward the spirit of Costia. She held back the damn threatening to raise the water levels. Lexa knew Costia would understand, that she’d want her to protect Indra at all costs, but this price was too high. Lexa couldn’t believe she actually considered it, and that is what stung her the most. She gasped a crippling sigh. Chief Kane stepped forth from the adjacent interrogation room. It was pitch black in there. Both Lexa and Anya snapped into attention.

“I happen to agree.” He waved his hand for them to stand down, sipping on his coffee. His wavy hair drifted in his rugged face. The salt and pepper stubble on his chin and lip collected the spilled drops.

“You…”

“Heard the entire thing.” Kane addressed Anya’s inquiry before she could continue. He took another sip. “I was watching your progress. Lexa, I must commend you on wanting my approval first and foremost. Anya, you should know better by now. Never go behind my back. I WILL know.”

“Yes, Sir.” They both rang out in unison. Kane scratched his head. 

“I’ll start drawing up paperwork. Lexa, I know you don’t want to hear it, but Anya is right. We can’t pull Indra right now. It’s too dangerous and we can’t have Roan telling anyone else.” Lexa peered down toward her black shoes. She heavily sighed. “We don’t know who else knows, and after this little display of power, we can’t take that chance. Indra knew what she was signing up for. I don’t like it as much as you, but we need him to give up Alie and Jaha. This could mean we get justice for both of you.” He set a reassuring hand on Lexa’s shoulder, ducking under her to reach her eye level. His gaze darted back and forth from her silver-greens. “We won’t be able to convict him on Costia, but we can for the act of domestic terrorism.”

“You’re voting for this?” Lexa batted his hand away from her with a callus abandon. 

“Sometimes, the hardest decision turns out to be the best one.” He retorted.

“How is this justice? Protecting a killer?” Lexa snarled with contempt. She didn’t need another lecture, especially from Clarke’s step-father. She was almost at a calm, but one word from him set her off. “You have no honor.”

“Mind your tone.” Kane spoke with a frank, monotone, authority.

“No!” Lexa croaked low. “I’m not going to just sit back and pretend nothing happened!”

“No one is expecting you to. You’re already on thin ice from your little visit in Arkadia. I heard about that.” Lexa fumed, refusing to look her boss in the eye. “In normal circumstances, I’d ask you for your badge, but right now, we need all the hands we’ve got.” Kane’s alarm drew, not as her boss but as her friend. “If you mess up again, I won’t be able to protect you. Not from the disciplinary board. Not from his lawyers and certainly not from the DA. I’m risking my neck here for you both.” Lexa snapped her attention back toward Kane, giving him the respect he wanted. She’d play his little game, for now, just to keep the peace. Her fists convulsed in small balls of death. “We will get them. I promise. Now, go in, I’ve some paperwork to write up. I’m also sending a medic to patch him up. You better be damn lucky he doesn’t sue you for that little stunt.”

“Fine. I’ll play your game.” She spat venom. “But if Indra dies even after this, it’s on both of you.”

“Fine.” Anya spoke for the both of them before Kane fired her on the spot. He shook his head, charging down the hall toward his office. Anya shot Lexa a dirty glance. Lexa didn’t back down, refusing to let her heart be challenged. She may have been acting out of duty, but her soul knew it was wrong. She needed a stiff drink. Lexa decided she was going to the bar right afterword instead of seeing Clarke. She didn’t want to bring that resentment home with her. Lexa sucked in a deep breath, then twisted the knob into the interrogation room once more. Lexa stood by the door, while Anya slid out the chair, setting herself in front of the Azgeda terrorist. 

“Well?” Roan grunted, weak from the blood loss. 

“We’ve got an EMT on the way to patch you up.” Anya fished around in her pocket, collecting the cuff keys. She slid them toward his wrists, freeing him. He wasn’t going anywhere in that state, and if he tried anything, she didn’t see Lexa’s rabid attack. Lexa was itching for a fight. She needed to calm down. Anya spoke those two fatal words that destroyed what innocence was left of Lexa’s childhood. ”You’re immune.” She felt like she was a million universes away, unable to hear Anya’s next words. “Paperwork is being filed as we speak by Chief Kane.” Anya pulled out another device from her pocket; a recorder. She pushed the record button. “ Now, tell us about Alie, Jaha and this City of Light.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back...  
> Roan was pardoned...  
> What will this mean for Clarke and Lexa?
> 
> Will Lexa leave again knowing that the killer is on the streets?  
> Will they make it work?!
> 
> Find out more in the latest chapter of Only You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is about more than just surviving. Don't we deserve better than that?! - Clarke Griffin, Season 2 the 100.

Chapter 9  
CLARKE

 

They all stirred about the spacious living room. A coffee table laid in the middle of the two white, love seats and couch in front of the massive TV. They turned it on to some program about the apocalypse, ridden by radiation, where a few teenage juvenile delinquents were sent off their spaceship to make sure the Earth was survivable. None of them actually paid any attention to it. They all sipped on their beers and wine coolers, celebrating that their home was finally complete.

 

Bellamy sat next to Clarke, who was standing up with her hands on her hip. Lincoln pressed his boot against the coffee table, propping a small lumbar support for Octavia, who sat on his lap. Murphy rested on the end of the couch, by himself, spread eagle, bouncing his knee, while crossing his arms with a beer nested in the bend of his elbow. Raven glided past Clarke with a fresh sixpack in her hand, sliding her opposite on the small of Clarke’s back to move her, before plopping down. 

 

She kicked her feet up on the coffee table, popping the cap to a crisp IPA. She feverishly gulped it like sliding rocks down her gullet. Clarke clutched one of them, using Lexa’s lighter as leverage to pop the top. She chugged equally as fast as Raven, stopping for a quick breath. The bubbles burned her nose and the bitterness left a sour taste in her mouth. She was used to the light stuff. Raven had always said that IPAs were the beer of champions. 

 

“Woah, Princess. I think you’ve had enough.” Bellamy leaned upward to attention, stretching his hand out to stop her. Clarke wrinkled her nose. 

 

“I can drink anything I want.” No man was ever going to tell her what she can and can’t do. Bellamy lept into the air, grasping the bottle top before she brought it to her parted lips. She smacked his hand away. 

 

“Not with those pain meds, no.” She was relieved he was home, but quickly forgot his judgement on every decision she ever made. He was always trying to control her. Clarke thought that he should know by know, she can’t be tamed.

 

“Who’s the doctor here?” She stood her ground. 

 

“Bellamy is right, Clarke. I know you already know, but just don’t overdo it.” Lincoln used, what Octavia calls, his “medic” voice on Clarke. He was stern, monotone, but with a slight inflection insinuating that he cared when he really didn’t. 

 

“What? It’s a celebration! You’re all home!” Octavia held her arms around Lincoln’s neck, then surveyed the room on the three boys. They were all finally home, at long last, after a year and a half deployment. 

 

“Not all of us.” Murphy wiggled his nose, wiping it with the back of his palm. He nodded over toward the portrait Clarke drew of Finn. His half smile crept and fell like lightning flashes. He swallowed hard.

 

“I’m sure Lt. Collins would be happy we’re all home safe.” Raven’s hand fluttered to the welded metal in an origami raven around her neck. She twirled the edges of the wings in her fingers. Clarke swallowed hard, refusing to look at anyone. Guilt solidified in her stomach. It had barely been a few months since they buried him, and she was already back with Lexa. She decided to keep that news to herself. She didn’t want any of them, especially Bellamy, judging her.

“I’ll drink to that!” Octavia raised her bottle, pointing the lip to the portrait. “To Finn!” Everyone else raised their bottles, including Clarke, cheering out, “To Finn”, all in unison. They took a sip, wiping their lips of the frothy foam from the bubbles. Bellamy set his sights on Clarke. 

 

“So, Princess, you missed me?” Bellamy winked at her. Clarke rolled her head around, scanning everyone before ending on Bellamy. She sat down on the armrest of the couch, plopping her palms on her knees. 

 

“Of course!” She shrugged. Bellamy’s smile crept wider. “We all did!”

 

“I know, for one, I became more badass while you were away.” Octavia cut Clarke’s tension, saving her from her brother. 

 

“There’s no question you’ve always been a badass.” Lincoln bounced her on his knee. She lowered herself toward his lips, clasping his jaw with outstretched, gentle fingers. Lincoln craned his neck to meet her, sliding his hands under her dark locks. His thumb rested on the side of her face. 

 

“Ugh, gross! Get a room!” Raven lunged in, grasping a bottle cap in her hands. She flung it at the two, meeting its mark. It bounced off of Lincoln’s shiny head. He let Octavia go, opening his arms, as if to say, “come on”. Raven’s pearly whites ejected with the retraction of her lip. 

 

“I’ll second that.” Murphy leaned over toward Raven, holding out his glass. She clinked her bottle with his at the bottom, then they both chugged. “So, Clarke, I heard you ran into Lexa?” Murphy was genuinely curious, although Clarke never thought he ever had much of genuine curiosity with her, or anyone other than himself for that matter. 

 

“Ran into her, alright.” Raven laughed with an excited glee. “And over, and over, and over!” She teased mercilessly. Clarke’s brow raised. She turned her attention away from everyone, chugging the bitterness her bready brew. 

 

“How is the war on the homefront?” Murphy ignored her joke. He worried about his girlfriend, Emori, who was a member of Trikru. None of them approved of his relationship with a known felon and gang member, but they understood the forbidden fruit. 

 

“It’s challenging.” Lincoln took Octavia’s finished bottle, setting it on the coffee table. He kissed her ear in the process. “After Arkadia got attacked, we are all on high alert at the TonDCPD.” She pulled another from the six-pack in front of them. 

 

“I bet.” Bellamy stretched. “And, someone HAD to play the hero and get herself stabbed. Wanheda, the peacemaker.” Everyone stared at Clarke. She nervously fumbled around with her empty bottle, peeling off the label. 

 

“I was protecting my people.” She picked away at the white residue on the green tinted glass. 

 

“When did you become such a badass?” Murphy rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. He craned his neck upward, after flipping his hoodie over the back of his head.

 

“The Princess has always been a badass. She’s royal!” Bellamy retorted.

 

“More like a royal pain in my ass.” Octavia snorted.

 

“Tell me about it.” Raven clanked her bottle with Octavia’s, cheering each other at the Clarke Griffin roasting session. Both of the girls rested their feet on the coffee table. 

 

“HEY!” Clarke shook her head. She sunk her toes underneath the table as soon as both of them took a sip at the same time, dragging it toward her. Both Raven and Octavia fell forward, catching themselves, but spilling their beers in the process. It dribbled down their chins. Clarke chuckled. “See, I can be fun!”

 

“Don’t push your luck, Griffin.” Raven wiped away the drops with the back of her palm and a playful gleem in her eye. 

 

“Yeah, well, good luck with that.” Everyone rolled in laughter. Clarke rocked her head back and forth, jumping to attention. She grabbed most of the empty bottles and caps, heading toward the kitchen. She set them in the recycle bins. Bellamy followed after her, picking up the remaining empty bottles. Clarke sighed a relieving breath. She was happy everyone was home and safe. She opened the fridge, dragging out a log of summer sausage. Bellamy flew toward the drawer, taking in the cutting board and knife. He stood next to her. 

 

“Hey.” He blushed, reaching over her head to the cabinet, drawing out a plate to serve the snack food. 

 

“Hi.” Clarke smiled. She cut up the pieces, using the hard of her palm to slide the dull knife through the meat. Stray strands of luscious pink and blond hair circled around her face. Bellamy swept it back behind her ear. She glanced up at him, grinning at one of her best friends. “Thanks.” Bellamy blushed in the haloing aura of her beauty. 

 

“So, I was thinking…” 

 

“That must have been VERY difficult for you.” Clarke cut him off. Her eyes twinkled in the overhead lights. Bellamy attempted to contain his blush, nervously chuckling. Clarke finished, setting the knife in the sink, then gathered the plate and cutting board, spinning around to the island. She picked up the summer sausage, piece by piece, lining them together in tight, neat rows. Bellamy reached in the fridge, dragging out the pre-cut cheese from the deli. He handed the package to Clarke, who faced them on both sides of the summer sausage. 

“Look, it’s been a while. Maybe we can, you know, get a coffee or something. Just catch up one on one?” Bellamy begged the question.

 

“Yeah, if I’ve the time.” Bellamy’s face lit up in triumph. Clarke was oblivious to the situation. 

“Great!” He hugged her close from the behind, wrapping his arms around the under of her chest, pressing his lips to the top of her head. Clarke loved it. She felt warm and safe in her “brother’s” arms. “I missed you, Princess.”

 

“I missed you, too.” She pulled away, grabbing the plate in the process. Octavia studied them with careful skepticism. Clarke sauntered toward the living room, arranging the plate on the coffee table with a gentle thud. Octavia lept from Lincoln’s lap, striding toward her brother. Bellamy followed Clarke. Octavia rushed him, groping him by the elbow. Bellamy reluctantly skidded with her gallup. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” She retracted her hand from him. He bounced on his heels, chuckling, while turning his head back toward Clarke.

 

“Just talking.” Bellamy returned his attention to his little sister. She rested her hands upon her hips, casting a shower of judgement on his bulky character. 

 

“That didn’t look like just talking to me.” Octavia was cold in her concern. She drew her head back. “Did she tell you?”

 

“Tell me what?” Bellamy cocked his to the side. 

 

“She’s screwing around with Lexa again.” Octavia gruffed in a low gurgle.

 

“What?!” He snapped his neck around, staring at Clarke. She had a drink in her hand, with her other to her mouth, laughing with Raven at Murphy’s expense. Bellamy’s face fell while his brows rose at the sudden alarm. 

 

“She went out with that Niylah girl, but when the attack happened…” Bellamy reverted his attention to his sister, with a disdain filled exasperation. “She was a little TOO concerned about where Lexa was... She even reached out to her when she was stabbed.” Bellamy’s discomfort sprouted from the depths of his loins. He swayed back and forth on his feet, crossing his heavy, muscular arms. “I hear her say she loved her.” He had enough. He stormed toward a laughing Clarke. “Bellamy, wait!” Octavia tried to grasp his hand before he did anything stupid. She was too late. Bellamy trudged toward the woman, grasping his calloused squeeze around the upper of her arm, a little more harsh than he anticipated, dragging the poor girl toward the hallway. Clarke’s smile fell.

 

“Hey. You okay?” She swept his long hair around his ears. Bellamy grasped her wrist, throwing it away from him. 

 

“Please tell me you aren’t with Lexa again.” He bounced back on his heel, resting his grasp around his waist. He popped one foot out. 

 

“Bellamy… I…”

 

“I knew it!” He turned his back to her. The entire house drew to a stillness. The clatter of the television droned out the lull. 

 

“Why does it matter?” Clarke’s defense crippled Bellamy’s anguish. Clarke didn’t care. It was not his place to judge her on who she loves, or wants to be with for that matter. 

 

“Why does it matter? Clarke, she left you.” The words solidified in Clarke’s ears. She shook her head, unable to fathom what she was hearing. “You barely survived last time. You ran away and it took us forever to track you down!”

 

“I don’t have to defend myself to you.” She thought they were good. She thought that she had her big brother back. Then, the sudden realization that he had always judged her every move popped in her head. Every decision she made, every outing she had to cancel, every date she’d ever go on, Bellamy judged her. He’d crack some joke or say something stupid, and she’d just hold her tongue. She held it to keep the piece, but not this time. Clarke was done. 

 

“If she left you once, she’ll leave again, Clarke.” Bellamy crossed his arms. His lips tightened. 

 

“Then, that’s my problem.” Clarke rolled her eyes. She turned away, strutting down the hall away from him. 

“No it’s not!” Bellamy caught her by the upper of her arm. He aggressively shook her back in front of him. He held her wrist up to his face, close enough to touch his skin. He leaned forward, towering over her. Clarke stood fast against his damnation. “It’s the problem of everyone who loves you! She left you! Left all of us when we started to trust her. Clarke, you can’t go back!” He searched her soul, lowering his eyelids to die with his sun. Clarke couldn’t take it.

 

“You’re not my keeper.” Clarke snarled, releasing herself from his grasp, stabbing her finger in Bellamy’s chest with a sudden red flush to her cheeks. The veins in her neck throbbed, ready to burst. No one had the right to judge her, especially Bellamy. 

 

“Someone has to.” Bellamy retorted. He protruded his jaw, exhaling, with a cold, dead stare. 

 

“Who told you, huh?” Clarke quickly quipped. “Octavia?”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

“Octavia.” The room adjacent stirred. The couch squeaked. The foot steps on the creaking floorboards belonged to Octavia. Clarke knew the residual sound reverberating around the spacious room from anywhere. They plopped away from the hall with an unrelenting force. 

 

“She’s only looking out for you.” 

 

“I won’t hear this again.” Clarke turned away from him, storming toward her room. 

 

“Lexa’s only going to get scared and run again. She’ll leave and then who has to pick up the pieces, huh?” Clarke stopped dead in her tracks. Bellamy shifted his weight to his other foot, throwing out his hand, chopping the air for emphasis with every word. “She betrayed all of us! We thought, hey maybe the Princess can finally be happy after a string of bad luck.”

 

“Shut up.” Clarke seethed with narrowed vision. She was steaming, turning pink. Bellamy didn’t care. He wanted Clarke to hear what everyone was too afraid to tell her. 

 

“We let her into our home, in our lives and she just abandoned us. She left you for dead, Clarke.”

 

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Her words rang around the infrastructure, cascading into the shake of the windows and walls. She shot daggers at Bellamy with every breath. Her chest sunk into her stomach with every pant. 

 

“Don’t go back to her.” Bellamy begged in a silent croak. “Please.”

 

“Why not?! What do you care, huh?” Clarke snapped. She didn’t care how harsh she was. It was her life, her choice, and her feelings on the line. Bellamy shouldn’t care so much and it hurt him. His wide brown eyes narrowed, tracing Clarke’s fragile frame, suddenly becoming a seven foot steel, airtight door, keeping the radiation of his drunken desires at bay. “You fought with Wells. He was murdered! You bagged on Lexa, hell you even cracked jokes when Finn died! Why, Bellamy?” Clarke exploded. “Why can’t you just leave me the hell alone and keep your nose in your own damn business?”

 

“Because I love you, Clarke.” His words reverberated around the entire house, solidifying in the foundation. Silence encrypted the voids of the cracks. No one dared utter a peep. Clarke softened, slightly. “I’ve always been in love with you, okay? Seeing your face was the only thing that kept me going when I went to far. It was what got me to come home.”

 

“I’m not hearing this.” Clarke shook her head, turning her back on him. 

 

“Yes, you are!” He grabbed at her once more. She pulled away more quickly. Bellamy was left with empty hands, shaking them in front of his face. “Clarke, please. I’m not good with this kind of thing, okay?” Clarke sucked in a deep breath, craning her head upward before turning to face him once more. She got up close into his space.

 

“I love you, Bellamy. I do.” His face lit up like a child seeing a parade for the first time. “But, I just don’t love you the way you want me to. You need to let this go. Let me go.” That bewilderment fell with the damning words of his defeat. 

 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Anger from his rejection boiled in his veins. “I’m not gonna let you…”

 

“Let me? I don’t need your permission to see Lexa.” Clarke seethed through gritted fang. 

 

“What I mean is…”

 

“Oh, I know what you meant.” Clarke backed herself away from who she thought was the closest person she ever had to a brother. She couldn’t believe Bellamy Blake bringing his bout of “bullshit” back home. She really thought he may have changed after a year and a half overseas. She really thought that he would have been better. Clarke couldn’t have been more wrong. She shook her disbelieving head at him. Bellamy grabbed at her hand, holding it against his chest. She pursed her lips together while he gave her a faint grin. “How about you do me a favor for once and fuck off!” Clarke pulled her grasp from him, slapping him lightly in the face, then stormed off into her bedroom. With each prance, her feet sunk into the ground like cinderblocks in fresh cement. Bellamy rubbed his swollen cheek with his scorn pride. He sucked in air through his nose, collecting himself, then walked out into the living room. Four sets of prying eyes rested on his bulky frame.

 

“Show’s over.” He snapped at all of them. They awkwardly shuffled around the room, watching him grab his coat on the rack by the door, and then rush out. He slammed the it so hard, it shook the windows. Octavia and Raven stared at each other for a moment. Murphy pointed toward the last cheese slice on the tray.

“Is anyone gonna eat that?”

 

LEXA

 

She sat down at the edge of the bar with a dram of single malt in her palm. No other drink would do after that trying day. It was smoky, swirling with the oils of the barrels. Lexa twirled the glass in in her ridiculously long fingers, studying the dark amber glow. She sent the glass flying toward her lip, chugging a swig. The burn tingled down her gullet, deep into the pits of her loins. It warmed her from the center, numbing her high cheekbones. She nodded her head to the tv above, showing the evening news and which Trikru or Azgeda attack happened earlier in the day. Lexa chugged the rest of the contents in her glass, raising her fingers toward the barkeep. He sauntered over, pouring another dram in her glass. She reached into her leather jacket pocket, sliding a twenty across the counter. 

 

“Keep the change.” She smiled. A mirror rested behind the shelves of different alcohols, both top shelf and the house blends. She never thought she’d be back here; the bar that just across the street, she died at. She needed answers, and only coming back to the scene would clear her head. Was Roan’s contact, Echo really going to lead them to Jaha and Alie’s distribution warehouse? She knew it had to be a trap. She didn’t trust that bastard or anyone with him. Lexa reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out her buzzing phone. A message from Clarke flashed across the silver screen. 

 

Clarke the Shark: Hey. How are you doing?

 

Lexa’s smile grew wide. She contained herself, but she couldn’t she believe that Clarke was really hers. She somberly chuckled in giddy glee. Everything that happened at the precinct was fresh on her mind, but Clarke at least made life more tolerable.

 

Lex: I’m sitting at the DEAD ZONE. 

 

… 

 

Lexa stared at those three dots, wondering what Clarke would say, now that she knew she’s at the bar Lexa was shot across the street from.

 

Clarke the Shark: Why are you back there?

 

Lex: I needed to clear my head. Thought returning would give me answers.

 

Clarke the Shark: Rough night?

 

Lex: The worst… Had to pardon Roan for Costia.

 

Clarke the Shark: YOU WHAT?!

 

Lex: It was either Roan’s life for Costia’s murder or vital information to end the war. I can’t talk about it on the phone. Later maybe?

 

…

 

Clarke the Shark: Yeah… 

 

…

 

Clarke the Shark: Hey, if you see Bellamy, tell him to come home.

 

Clarke the Shark: He was drinking pretty heavy. I think he might have driven out to the bar? His car is gone.

 

Lex: Why would he be drinking so much and drive? He knows he’s on shore leave and can get in trouble, not just with us at the PD but with his superiors. 

 

…

 

…

 

Lex: Clarke?

 

…

 

Clarke the Shark: I’ll tell you later.

 

Lexa sighed. She hated these encrypted messages, especially when Clarke refused to answer. She wanted to go home, but didn’t want to bring her troubles of blinding fury about Roan on Carke or anyone else. They were celebrating the boys’ homecoming, and she knew damn well she wasn’t welcome; not yet. 

 

Lex: Hey, I’ll see you back at my place later?

 

Clarke the Shark: You can count on that. ;D

 

Clarke the Shark: I know what will cheer you up! 

 

…

 

Clarke the Shark: Do girls find scars as sexy as guys do? 

 

Lex: Yea… Why do you ask?

 

Clarke the Shark: Hold on.

 

...

 

Clarke the Shark: -PICTURE SENT- I’ll be sure to save some for you. Love you. XOXOX

 

Lexa flung her hand over her mouth, staring at the photo Clarke sent. She quickly flipped her phone over on the bar, with a clatter, glancing around her shoulder, making sure no one was around before clumsily turning it towards her once more. A sudden blooming rose dusted across Heda’s high cheekbones, her lips fell ajar. Lexa’s breath ran cold, sucking in a deep gasp. She mumbled to herself, unable to find coherent words, flooding her quaking fingers back toward her mouth once more. On the screen, Clarke lay bare and vulnerable for Lexa’s taking. The only part of her face visible was her smug grin, biting her lower lip at the corner. Her blonde and pink hair draped around her perky, bare breasts, while a faint scar formed on her side, around the healing stitches of her long stabwound. She arched her hips upward, coming off the bed. Clarke rested her hand flat within the black lace of her boyshorts on her lower pelvis, setting her thumb on the top of the lace. Lexa’s thumbs clicked the keys fast.

 

Lex: Ummm…

 

Lex: Woah! 

 

…

 

Clarke the Shark: You like?

 

Lex: I uh… Woah… I…

 

Lexa wanted to say she loved her, but she knew text wasn’t the best place to say it for the first time. She said it a million times without actually saying those three words. She always choked on them, like they were the hardest thing to say. To Lexa, they were. She viewed it a death sentence. She said it to Aden, he was crushed in an Azgeda attack. She said it to Costia, she was beheaded. She honestly believed those three words were crushed, but Lexa craved to tell Clarke that the loved her. Every fiber of her being screamed it in a million pleas. Lexa stared at her phone. 

 

…

 

Clarke the Shark: See you at home, Detective. I’ve been very naughty. Be sure to arrest me. Hard. Promise I won't put up much resistance. ;P

 

…

 

Lexa didn’t know what to reply back. She crossed her hot legs. Her center radiated a warmth and sudden feral, thirsting, need. Lexa couldn’t breathe. She missed this. She missed Clarke always taking her mind off of matters when she needed to clear her head the most. She always had a knack of doing so. 

 

Lex: Well then, Lexa has a job. Detective Woods is on the case. >:D

 

Clarke the Shark: Just tell me where and when, and I’m all yours. :X

 

…

 

Lex: Later tonight?

 

…

 

…

 

Clarke the Shark: I’ll be waiting, Heda. 

 

…

 

Clarke the Shark: I’ll show you why you call me Wanheda. ;P

 

Lexa clicked her phone on sleep mode. She rested her elbows on the top of the bar, breathing hard into her fingers, which rested on either side of her nose. The bar housed a few other patrons in the corner, and none of them knew the dirty secrets in the confines of Lexa’s phone. Clarke must have known that this was the case, otherwise she wouldn’t have sent it, Lexa thought. She couldn’t believe her dreamgirl was truly embracing her after everything she put her through. Lexa longed for these days once more for over two years, and finally, finally…

 

BOOM! The door of the establishment flung open, hitting the back of the wall. The man shuffling in was clearly drunk, stumbling about the area. His black hair clung to his forehead in sweat, his eyes red and puffy. Lexa pursed her lips, watching him slog toward the bar, slapping his palms against the wood. The tender came by, popping the top of a beer, setting it in front of him. 

 

“As I live and breathe, Bellamy Blake is home from the front!” The tender clasped his hand with Bellamy’s. He grinned ear to ear. 

 

“Miller! How the hell are you?!” His deep rumble pierced Lexa’s eardrums. 

 

“You know, same old same old. After my reenlistment came back up, I talked with Bryan and he talked me out of going back. I started tending here ever since, serving her kind.” He nodded his chin toward Lexa, who glanced up at him, hunching over her glass. She wanted to text Clarke she found him, but that would have been too suspicious. She had to keep appearances for him before scaring him away. Bellamy grimaced. “So, you know her?”

 

“Yeah, that’s Lexa.” Bellamy sucked down half of his beer. 

 

“Wait, you’re telling me, that hottie over there with them green eyes… That cop with the big a-….GUN is Lexa?!”

 

“Yep.” Bellamy sucked down the rest of his brew, quick as he could. He hit his chest, burping in the process. Lexa rolled her eyes watching the two boys. ‘This is why I’m glad I’m gay.’ She thought. Miller took the bottle from him, sliding over an empty glass.

 

“You’re gonna need this then.” Miller filled his cup with the strongest, top shelf whisky he had. “On the house, brother.” Bellamy nodded, raising his glass to him. Bellamy stumbled, sliding down next to where Lexa sat upon the wooden barstools. It was an older place, dark, with different neon beer signage posted around the entire room. Two pool tables set in the center while a few chairs and tables rested in the corner, filled with a few more patrons filing in. Lexa heavily sighed as Bellamy shifted his leg over the stool next to her.

 

“Good to see you’re still alive.” Bellamy saluted her, slapping his drunken hand across her forehead. She let it slide. Lexa knew he was being a sarcastic asshole, she just didn’t know why. She thought that after two years they were cool again, but apparently not. 

 

“Yeah… Clarke made sure of that.” She stared dead ahead. “Good to be home?”

 

“Was.” Bellamy protruded his jaw, taking a swig of the whisky. He closed his eyes as it burned his palate, gulping down the fire in his belly. 

 

“Oh?” Lexa sipped on her own drink. Bellamy swirled his in his claws.

 

“Until I found out you’re sticking your nose back where it doesn’t belong.” He took another sip, bringing the cup to his lips. Lexa turned on her stool to stare at him dead on.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her offense grew. Lexa knew something was up. She wanted to text Clarke to get answers right then and there, but if she did, Bellamy would, without a doubt, freak out and leave. She preferred him right where he was, safe. 

 

“Nothing, Detective.” Bellamy set down his glass, staring blankly ahead. “Congrats on that by the way.”

 

“Thanks.” The air loomed an awkward tension between the two. Lexa refused to acknowledge Bellamy and vice versa. They just stared ahead, sipping on their drinks, observing the atmosphere around them. Everywhere else was warm and inviting. Bellamy wreaked of stale beer and vomit. Lexa’s alarm rang out with every fiber in her body. Bellamy needed help. He needed to go home before he had to have his stomach pumped. ‘Should I ask him?’ She thought. ‘No, that would just make things worse. I’ll let him come to me.’

 

“Can I ask you a question?” Bellamy croaked. He was distant, cold, but had a fire behind his brown eyes and a genuine curiosity.

 

“Ask.” Lexa shrugged her shoulder, lifting her hand in the process. 

 

“Just what are your intentions with the Princess?” Lexa was taken aback. She needed to know now, more than ever, what the hell Bellamy was talking about. She understood that they weren’t on the best of terms after she left Clarke when, before, they were once the best of friends, but she couldn’t believe her old drinking buddy had the gall to ask that. Lexa cared deeply for Bellamy, mostly because Clarke did. After getting to know him, she realized he’s not a bad guy, just incredibly intense and a total jackass, but she cared about him. 

 

“Meaning?” Bellamy looked her dead in the eyes with pursed lips. He folded his arms, sneering at the detective. 

 

“How long are you gonna string her along before you leave again?” He flashed out the words with stern audacity. His persistence with each syllable rolled off his tongue like a snake flicking its venom at helpless prey. 

 

“That’s really none of your business.” Lexa wasn’t easily swayed by his vial words. Her offense ballooned around her, threatening to burst. She took a deep breath, realizing he’s not worth it and that he’s drunk. She could certainly hold it against him, but it wouldn’t be right in an impaired state of mind. She let it roll off her shoulder. 

 

“Yes it is. We are the ones who have to pick up the pieces when you leave again. She barely survived the first time.” This caught her attention. She glared at him with a low brow, fury creepig to the surface. She tried not to let it overtake her, but she wasn’t about to let Bellamy defame her by lies. Bellamy smirked, noting he got a rise from her. He didn’t let up, staring directly into the abyss of the amber glow. “I remember the look on her face. She was cold. She didn’t know we could hear her crying at night.” Bellamy turned his entire body to face Lexa head on. He snarled like a wounded honey badger attacking a snake. “Then, one day, she disappeared. Raven put out an APB on her, but she didn’t want to be found. It was at least three months until she resurfaced, and she turned into this feral beast we barely recognized.” He sipped his whiskey. “She wasn’t OUR Clarke anymore. It’s your fault she left. She was strung out on all sorts of drugs or drinking or SOMETHING. Abby was lucky she put in a sabbatical for her so she could keep her job. She just wasn’t Clarke. Finn was the only one to bring her back to life. It’s your damn fault, you know.”

 

“Bellamy, go home. You’re drunk.” Lexa sighed, reaching toward his drink. She drug it across the bar away from him. Bellamy grasped at her hand. Sparks between the two flew like lightning crashing into a tree, splitting it in two and setting the ground ablaze.

 

“You just don’t wanna hear the truth! Are you really that stupid?!” Bellamy croaked in a slight hiccup. He grabbed his drink from Lexa’s paws. “You’re not the only one who loves her, you know. Though, I wouldn’t call your sort of betrayal love.” Bellamy sucked down the rest of his whiskey before Lexa could take it away again. There was no reasoning with this moron, she thought. Lexa set her hands on her knees, lowering her head in a sigh. She held out one of her paws, like a begging raccoon. 

 

“Give me your keys. I’ll call you a cab. Or Octavia?” Bellamy smacked away her hand. 

 

“No!” Lexa sighed, rolling her silver-greens while shaking her head. “You know what, You’re nothing but a piece of Trikru trash!” Lexa clenched her jaw. Bellamy chuckled, noting her disdain. He kept egging her on. “You’re certain to get her killed. You already got her stabbed. Being with you WILL kill her, and I won’t stand back and watch.” Lexa slammed her hands on the bar, slowly raising above him, refusing to look him dead in the eye. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. 

“I could arrest you for public intoxication.” She hissed. 

 

“This is a bar! What are you gonna do, arrest the entire place?” Bellamy half shouted for the other patrons to hear. He stood against her, towering over the pissed off Heda. “Cops aren’t really welcome here, you know! Plus, you’re off duty. There’s laws.” He grasped her glass, slamming it down his gullet. Lexa’s jaw parted, unable to fathom what he was doing. She really needed answers, now. “Thanks for the drink.”

 

“Alright, give me your keys. You’re going home. Before I have to arrest you for lewd behavior and public intoxication. I bet you, you’re over the legal limit.” She held out her hand once more. Bellamy grabbed at her wrist, twisting it around into chaos. 

 

“I really don’t care. You have no authority here.” He growled like a wounded pup. 

 

“Give me your keys!” She grasped at his pocket. 

 

“No!” Bellamy backed away, dropping her.

 

“Give me your damn keys!” She lunged once more.

 

“How about you just shut the hell up?!” Bellamy stumbled backwards, grasping the wooden stool. He flung it back, then used the momentum to slam it directly into Lexa’s back with the full force of his strength. It shattered in two. Lexa dropped like a sack of potatoes. Her vision fogged in and out with the dull achy residual break on her aching back. Bellamy paced backward a few steps, mouthing, ‘Oh Shit.’ Lexa wiggled her toes, then her legs. She wiggled her fingers and then head. Nothing seemed broken, just her pride. She slowly made her way to her feet. Lexa couldn’t believe what he had just done: assaulted an officer. This wasn’t just a legality. It was personal. She charged, full speed, dropkicking Bellamy in the chest. She fell to her butt, rocking back and forth, crying loud. Bellamy clutched at his chest, coughing on his hands and knees. Miller picked up the phone, dialing 911.

 

Bellamy tried to get back up, stumbling toward the door. Lexa stumbled to her feet from her knees, dancing around him like a drunk gorilla. She rushed Bellamy, tackling him to the floor. He wasn’t going to get away that easily. The bar went still, watching the two struggle around. Bellamy pulled out a small pocketknife, kicking Lexa off of him. He slashed at her. Lexa spun around his open stance, popping her elbow into his forearm. She heard a slight crack. Bellamy grunted, dropping the knife, clutching at his arm. Lexa swept her foot under his leg, knocking him off balance to his back. She panted. The strain pulled at her blackening, bludgeoned wound. Bellamy jumped back up, throwing a punch. Lexa was too hurt to dodge. He smacked her straight across the jaw. She dropped. 

 

Bellamy taunted her, kicking her in the stomach, then in the back. She spat at his boot, wrapping her arms around his ankles, yanking him back down. Lexa crawled on top of him, punching him in the face with a left hook, then a right, then left, right, left. She flung herself off of him, while he rolled over to the side, blood dripped out of his fat, busted lip. 

 

“Stay down.” Lexa seethed through gritted teeth. She bent overtop of him. He laid flat on his back, staring up at her. He sprayed a fountain of misty blood in her face. Lexa wiped it away with shaking fists. 

 

“Fuck. You.” Bellamy groaned. Lexa rolled her eyes. 

 

“Bellamy Blake, you are under arrest for drunk and disorderly conduct as well as assaulting an officer.” Lexa flipped him on his stomach, pressing her knee down in the small of his back. Boots crashed in, guns pointed high at Lexa and Bellamy’s heads. 

 

“On your knees!” An officer cried out to Lexa. She didn’t comply. “I said on your knees.” 

 

“I’ve apprehended the perp, officer. Stand down.”

 

“You don’t get to order us around.” One of them held up a taser, pointed toward her back. “On your knees, Trikru!”

 

“Skikru? Stand down, I’m Detective Woods of the 2nd Precinct in TonDC.”

 

“And I’m President Wallace. Not asking again! On your knees!” Lexa flung her knee off of Bellamy, holding her hands in the air. 

 

“Taser, taser, taser!” One shot her in the back with the taser. The wires fried deep into her silky skin seizing Lexa in a shocking spin. Her fingers contorted while her back arched. She gritted her fangs with each heat filled pulse, rushing around her body. He kept holding onto the trigger. Two thousand volts circulated around her system until finally, her world turned black. 

 

AN HOUR LATER

 

Lexa woke in a holding cell, adjacent to Bellamy’s. He was staring at her, his hands set on the side of his nose in a praying motion. Her eyelids fluttered open. She lifted her head, which stirred Bellamy. He sighed in deep relief. 

 

“I thought they killed you.” Worry crept across her face. Lexa rubbed the back of her neck. Her head throbbed against her pulsing ears. She sat up fast, while her head fogged over in a daze. 

 

“What would you care anyway.” She cocked her head to the side, staring at Bellamy. He stood up, walking over to the bars, resting his hands on the horizontal one. 

 

“Look, I may be an idiot, okay. I may be an asshole, but I never wanted to really kill you. It’s just…”

 

“Clarke makes you do stupid things. Yeah, I know.” He bowed his solemn head. “You’re not the only one who does stupid things for that woman. Love is weakness.” Bellamy pursed his split lips, nodding in agreeance.

 

“I’m just glad you’re okay. Not for me, but for Clarke.” Lexa wondered what the hell happened to her old friend. She knew what she did was unforgivable, but Bellamy went too far. She didn’t know how the hell she was ever going to forgive him. She didn’t know how the hell anyone was going to be okay with her again, especially after this. He was shaking with fury.

 

BANG! Anya swung open the door, slamming the handle into the white-painted brick. She stormed over toward Lexa’s cell.

 

“Lexa, what the hell?!” Anya’s fury radiated around her aura. She glared at her partner, unbelieving that she was arrested for fighting in a bar and lewd behavior. She could believe Bellamy did that, but never thought Lexa would stoop to his level. She didn’t teach her second this.

 

“I’m fine. It’s fine. I was just trying to get his keys so he wouldn’t drive home drunk. He’s overly intoxicated.” Lexa bowed her head in shame. She knew she was an idiot and let everyone down. She was just glad Clarke wasn’t there to witness her shame. Suddenly, two figures sauntered through the door, picking up the idiot in the cell next to her. ‘Fuck…’ Lexa seethed through gritted teeth. Octavia shuffled in, preceded by Clarke. She wasn’t surprised to see Bellamy, but her worry and fury illuminated on her forehead like a giant billboard in Time Square. 

 

“Bellamy, what the hell did you do?” Her wavering voice reverberated around the enclosed area with a violent thunder. She darted her sky-blues from Lexa to Bellamy and back. Bellamy’s once worrisome glow on Lexa bent into loathing.

 

“Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend?” He rubbed the back of his head. Clarke couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She turned her attention toward Lexa. 

 

“Lexa, are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine, Clarke. I’m okay.” Clarke nodded, her face scrunching in the process. Lexa thought she looked like a small beam of death. She was both terrified of her and aroused. Bellamy refused to look at Clarke.

 

“I can’t believe you! Either of you!”

 

“Clarke…” Lexa squeaked like a pet Raccoon getting caught in the dog’s food bowl. She followed Clarke, prancing back and forth the cells. Lexa stood up, slowly stepping toward the cage, grasping the bars tight in her palms.

 

“No, save it. We will talk about this later.” Lexa rested her forehead on the bars, unable to look Clarke in the eye. “Octavia, get Bellamy home.” Octavia crossed her arms.

 

“You don’t get to make the orders here.” She barked at Clarke standing behind her. She widened her stance. Clarke craned her neck to glance behind. 

 

“Please.” Clarke massaged her temples with her forefingers, then buried her face in her hands. Lexa turned to face the wall, slumping over on the bars. It dug at the throbbing tenderness in her back from Bellamy’s blow. She cradled the back of her head between them, resting her forearms on her knees. 

 

“Fine.” Octavia’s agitation thrived in the cramped space. She fumbled for the keys in her pocket, clinking open Bellamy’s cell. She reached inside, clasping him around the upper of his arm. “Alright, big brother. Let's go home.” Bellamy stumbled forward, hunching over. He dry heaved. Octavia flashed a quick glance at Clarke, wide eyed. Bellamy let the bile whiskey lullabies rain down on her boots. Octavia recoiled, kicking it away from her. “Nice…” Bellamy wiped his mouth with the back of his palm, propping himself up with Octavia’s shoulders. He nodded at Lexa, who nodded back at him. Octavia dragged him out of the room, leaving Clarke Anya and Lexa alone together. Anya clinked open Lexa’s cell. She stomped her feet right in front of her partner, lowering her hand to her. Lexa took it, leaning on Anya’s support. She moaned, grinding her fang together at the relief of pressure on her back. 

“Don’t you want to go home with your friends?” Anya addressed Clarke, who studied her interaction with her partner. It was a sort of care that Clarke approved of. She knew that Lexa was in good hands with Anya, so she relaxed, ever so slightly. 

 

“I don’t want to go back there. Not yet.” She looked Lexa up and down. She was bent over, resting her hands on her knees. “Lexa, are you sure you’re okay?” Lexa stood at full attention.

 

“I’ll be fine.” She began to walk forward, tripping over her feet. Lexa caught the bars with fumbling fingers, hoisting herself back up to a full stand. 

 

“Lexa! You’re hurt!” Clarke rushed inside the cell, clasping her at the bends of her elbows. She bobbed her head as she searched Lexa’s torso. 

 

“I’ll be fine. Got hit with a taser, nothing more.” She slumped back over, landing on her back. Lexa let out an inhuman howl. Clarke grabbed at her shirt, pulling it up slightly, releasing it from the tuck of her pants.

 

“Let me see.” Lexa trailed away from the love of her life. 

 

“It’s okay.” Clarke grabbed her at the wrist, drawing her in. Lexa stopped the fight. Clarke studied the two little pink and black marks on the left of her abs. She caught a peak of a round residual object imprinted on her side, twisting toward her back. Her alarm rose on high alert. 

 

“No! Let me see!” She used her trembling fingers to unbutton Lexa’s shirt from the bottom. Lexa often wondered when Clarke would undress her, but never in front of her partner. She mouthed ‘sorry’ to Anya, who didn’t seem to care. She was more focused on what Clarke was doing. Clarke unclasped her belt, yanking it from around her waist. She unbuttoned the top of her pants, sliding it halfway down her hips. She flipped the back of her button down. Clarke’s hand flooded to her face.

“It’s not that bad.” Lexa craned her neck to glance behind. Clarke traced her cool fingers over the stool’s imprint. Anya shook her head, cocking her brow in surprise.

 

“You need to see a doctor.” Lexa twirled on her heal, scooping Clarke into her arms.

 

“Lucky for me, you are one.” She faintly smiled, trying to reassure Clarke. 

 

“This is serious! It’s completely black. You can’t even see your tattoos! It’s some intensive, internal bleeding.”

 

“I’ll be fine. It’s just a bruise.” Lexa set her hands on both sides of Clarke’s face, under her hair, holding her thumbs parallel to her ear.

 

“Lexa…” She silenced Clarke with her kiss, drawing her in slow and deep. Lexa opened her mouth, lightly flicking her tongue on the bottom of Clarke’s lip before drawing her in for another intoxicating press. Clarke fell into it. She let the waves of Lexa’s love wash over her, in sweet, exhilarating temptation. Maybe now Clarke would believe her, Lexa thought. 

 

“I’m fine. I’ll be okay.” She pulled away. Clarke closed the distance between for another, lowering her eyelids toward Lexa’s cool, inviting mouth. Anya broke Clarke’s trance. 

“Clarke is right. Go get that checked out, okay? We can’t risk anything. We need you.” Anya cleared her throat. Lexa dropped her hands from Clarke, tracing the tips of her love toward Clarke’s side. She refused to turn away from the angel in front of her. Sorrow flew to Clarke’s eyes, and in those eyes, Lexa saw her sun set. She watched her strength crumble into a vat of crippling depression. If she couldn’t swallow her pride for herself, she was damn sure she would do it for Clarke. It was only for Clarke.

 

“Fine. Okay.” Lexa studied Clarke’s perfect sky-blue irises. 

 

“Lexa…” The thought of leaving her again, proving Bellamy right, was too much for her to handle. Lexa fought the rainstorm threatening to pour. She ran from it as quick as she could. She leaned back in, shutting her mournful eyes tight, pressing her passion against Clarke, becoming one. She fought back the dam. Clarke fell, heavy into her gravity. Lexa pulled away, Clarke darting back and forth in her soul.

 

“I said okay. Don’t worry.” Lexa flashed a weary smile. 

 

“Right. Clarke, do you wanna take or, or shall I?” Anya sighed.

 

“I’ll do it.” She half smiled. “We have a lot to talk about…”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *******************TRIGGER WARNING AND EXTREMELY NSFW!!!! NSFW, NSFW!!!!!!!! I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH!!!! PLEASE, BE OVER THE AGE OF 18 IF YOU ARE READING THIS AND DO NOT READ THIS AT SCHOOL, OR AT WORK!!! NSFW, NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!**********************************************
> 
> After Clarke told Lexa about what had went on with Bellamy, Lexa rolled it off her shoulder. She was back on patrol with Anya following a lead. 
> 
> What's going to happen next?
> 
> Find out more in this continuation of Only You!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ********SERIOUSLY, NOT SAFE FOR WORK! DO NOT PASS GO, DO NOT COLLECT $200!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED************
> 
> **********************************************************NSFW**************************************************************

CHAPTER 10  
Clarke and Lexa

 

“Hey there, Commander Raccoon.” Clarke sauntered toward Lexa in the light rain, her hands in her pockets. She jumped up and down from the cold of the wet, shivering. Lexa leaned against her squad car, donning her leather tactical gloves with holes cut out of the tips for grasp and reach, securing her badge at the edge of her pants. Her leather coat draped around one of her shoulders. Underneath, she secured the velcro straps around her kevlar vest. Lexa checked the clip on her police issued M9, stuffing it back in the holster. She glanced under her brow toward Clarke, who stopped just in front of her. She granted her a cocky, half smile. Clarke’s cheeks bloomed in a rosing blush.

 

“Commander, what? Explain.” She slid off her leather jacket, draping it around the freezing doctor’s shoulders. Clarke crossed her arms, clutching the warmth, breathing in Lexa’s scent. 

 

“You’re coming in late at night, snooping around the parking lot with dark circles under your eyes. You almost look like a racoon.” She grinned a toothy smile, meeting her nose to Lexa’s. Lexa rested her hands on Clarke’s hipbones, pressing her moist lip on her forehead. 

 

“Very funny, Clarke.” Clarke turned to Lexa’s side, leaning against the squad car, shoulder to shoulder with her. 

 

“Just trying to help. Long night?” She rested her head against Lexa’s upper arm, blinking her lids wildly. Lexa turned her attention toward her beloved. 

 

“Very.” She just received a tip from Roan about this Azgeda girl, Echo, and a drug deal going down that night. He was still in custody for his crimes on the hospital, but she couldn’t touch him for Costia anymore. It hurt Lexa more than she possibly could imagine. 

 

“Sorry to hear that.” Lexa stared dead ahead in the night. Clarke shifted to sit on top of the squad car, crossing her dangling legs together, kicking them about like a little girl on a park bench. Lexa breathed out a chuckle. 

 

“At least I’m clear to go back out on the beat.” Her bruising was just that: a bruise. Bellamy missed anything important and her black blood made it seem more than it was. Clarke was being overly paranoid, in Lexa’s mind, and she didn’t want her to worry. 

 

“Yeah, it makes me nervous.” Lexa turned to face her, head on. She rested herself between Clarke’s thighs. 

 

“Don’t be afraid.” She leaned over her, closing the distance between.

 

“I’ll always be afraid for you.” Clarke lowered herself backward, drawing Lexa closer to her, inch by inch. 

 

“That’s why I…” Lexa almost said it. “That’s why you’re you.” She lowered her lids to Clarke’s awaiting, inviting mouth. She peered back up into her sky-blues. “I adore you, Dr. Griffin.” Clarke reached her hands toward the shoulders of her vest, drawing Lexa into her warmth. The rain crashed over the two, pouring their passion-filled, searching lip with a feral need. Lexa stabilized herself with one hand, filling her other with Clarke’s hair under her ear. Her thumb sat parallel to it. Anya busted through the doors of the prescient, inching closer to her squad car. She flipped her jacket collar up around her ears, noticing her partner on the hood. Anya lowered her sulking hands.

 

“Ugh, get a room!” She opened the driver’s side door, climbing in, turning on the ignition, setting the beams ahead of the Hedas. The rumble of the engine shook Clarke’s core. She beamed in Lexa’s kiss, with her arms crossed around Lexa’s neck. Lexa drew her breath away, scaling her fingertips against Clarke’s forearms. She pulled them down between Clarke’s legs. 

 

“Hey, is Bellamy still…”

 

“Not an issue.” Clarke clung on for another breath, bowing her head to brush against Lexa’s ear. “Just come home to me safe. Please?” Lexa’s hair stood on end with Clarke’s sinsation. Anya honked the horn. The Hedas jolted in the startle. 

 

“Today, Lexa!” Anya cried out the window, leaning back in her seat. She set her elbow on the armrest, holding her shaking head in her hand. Clarke slipped a finger on Lexa’s bottom lip.

 

“I mean it, Heda. You be careful.” Clarke left her finger on Lexa’s lower lip, drinking in the majesty of her wanting silver-greens. 

 

“I make no promises.” Lexa drew the tip in her mouth, grazing her teeth against the pad of her forefinger. Clarke sighed. Lexa kissed her palm. “May we meet again.” She jumped back while Clarke climbed off the hood of the car. She glided Lexa’s jacket off of her shoulders, wrapping it around the Heda. Lexa granted her a reassuring half smile. Clarke smushed her face, standing on the tips of her toes, kissing her hard.

 

“I love you.” Clarke sighed off her lip, holding her hand in Lexa’s. Lexa trailed away from her, reaching her grasp to Clarke’s, not wanting to part with her. “Please be safe.” Lexa climbed into the passenger side of the car. 

 

“You really have a flair for the dramatic, kissing in the rain like that.” Anya mercilessly teased once Lexa shut the door. 

 

“Shof op. -Shut up-” Lexa playfully pushed her side. She clicked her seatbelt in place. “Let’s ride.” Clarke stood off to the side of the sidewalk, waving them off as they pulled away. 

 

Lexa

 

Lexa searched back and forth in the beams of the white lines and headlights in her eyes. They trailed by like shooting stars. Oncoming traffic blinded her with their bright beams. She reached her hand to shield from the brilliant glow. Lexa lowered it once they passed, glancing at the GPS. The two were silent. Anya didn’t mind that Lexa was with Clarke, but she did mind the show. Lexa felt awkward. She didn’t know what to say to her partner. So, she turned up the volume of the static filled scanners, pounding her fist on the unreliable equipment. ‘Piece of junk’, she murmured to herself. A static filled voice droned out the silence between the two. Lexa twisted the dial until the female voice on the opposite end cried out crystal clear. 

 

“Dispatch to all surrounding squad vehicles in the vicinity. We have suspicious activity on the corner of Jefferson and Lincoln. Requesting on site surveillance.” Anya glanced toward Lexa, who nodded back. It sounded like Roan was telling the truth. Anya lifted the receiver.

 

“Dispatch, this is Detective Shùmù with the Second Precinct. I’m with my partner, Detective Woods. We are en route.” She released the button, receiver pressed to her lips. A small moment of static filled the void.

 

“Copy that, Detective. Possible gang activity in the area. Probable drug deal. Survey the area and wait for backup.” Dispatch crackled in and out. 

 

“Copy that, Dispatch.” She released the button, drawing her attention towards Lexa. “You ready, partner?” Lexa flipped the safety slip from around her holster, gliding her weapon to her fingers. She checked her sights on her M9, sliding back the rack to check the chamber, switching the safety off. She grabbed the flashlight from the cup holder next to her phone, shining the light in the glove compartment. Three more fully loaded clips rested inside. She tossed one of them on Anya’s lap, then fastened the other two within the pocket of her vest. She closed the compartment, kicking off her jacket to the backseat.

 

“Ready.” She clicked the safety back on, pushing the pistol back into its holster. Anya flipped the switch on their black, undercover squad car, blaring down the highway, jerking the wheel around in a sharp U-Turn, toward the coordinates of the street.

 

After three minutes nearing the area, Anya shut off the sirens and lights. She rolled down the street, surveying the area, slowly driving up toward an abandoned warehouse in the Polis district. Lights flickered inside the rundown site. Shingles on the roof blew about the small gravel filled area. Several concrete barricades set between the site, the run down trailer on the lot, and the parking lot across from it. Cracks in the pavement spurting grass sprang forth under an overpass. A few vehicles resided in the area.

 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.” Anya sighed. 

 

“So do I. Place looks empty, except for those flashing lights. Maybe we should park down under that overpass.” Lexa pointed toward the ramp leading toward the interstate. A small park and ride bus stop settled underneath it. “No one would notice.”

 

“Shall we scope out the place on foot?” Anya suggested, shrugging. Both her hands were on the wheel.

 

“ReCon only. Do not engage unless we’ve eyes on and orders from Dispatch.” Lexa ordered. 

 

“I’m with you.” Anya nodded. She pulled into the parking area, closest by the bus stop. They both climbed out of the door, after attaching bluetooth radio coms in their ears, hands on their pistols, drawing them. They ducked down, sliding the safety off. Lexa nodded to Anya, resting behind the first concrete barricade. Anya rushed to the next one across the street on the private property. A mesh, wire fence resided around the area. Barbed wire stuck out towards the traffic. Lexa pressed the talk button on her comms.

 

“You got a visual?” She whispered.

 

“Negative. I hear voices though.” Anya peeked her head over her concrete barricade, back toward the warehouse. She leaned back down, her back toward the barricade. Lexa peeked over her cover, nodding toward her partner. “Lasers at the ready.” She flashed it twice. Lasers were less easily spotted in covert operations to signal the squad. They were better than flashlights at that right. 

 

“Okay, do not engage, but we need to get closer. Cover me.” Lexa blew out hard before running toward the edge of the dilapidated trailer sitting out front of the dark warehouse. She turned her back against it, nodding to Anya. “There’s movement. I hear shuffling. Sounds like a backhoe.” 

 

“I hear it.” Anya peaked over the barricade. Sharp BEEP BEEP BEEPs cried out in the echo of the warehouse. “Cover me.” Anya rushed to the side of the rundown building, gazing in a dirty window. She used the back of her hand to wipe away some of the grime for a clearer picture. She glanced inside. The warehouse held an opening in the back for heavy machinery to drive in and out. A semi with a flat trailer parked inside the back entrance. Crates upon crates piled in stacks, creating some sort of cover. Anya noted two more entrances, one through a door in the front, and one towards a tunnel, probably leading to a storage facility with a route to the abandoned train station underneath. “I found two ways in. I’m sending dispatch to the tunnels of the train station.”

 

“Are you sure that’s all of them?” Lexa called out from behind the crumbling, rusty, white trailer. 

 

“Yes. I’ll go around front. You flank them. There’s crates that should give you cover.” Anya nodded toward her partner. 

“Right.” Anya waited until Lexa was against the warehouse before she moved toward the front. Lexa scuttled around, dancing on the knife’s edge. She set herself in position, twisting between the crates. The backhoe beeped, backing up as two people, male and female, stood around an open area. Lexa identified the female as the picture Roan gave. 

 

“You got eyes on?” Anya crackled in Lexa’s ear. “I’m in position.”

 

“Affirmative. Looks like Roan came through after all. Echo.” Lexa scanned all possible areas. There were steel pillars holding up the infrastructure. The backhoe lifted crate after crate on the back of the empty semi bed. No one sat in the driver’s seat. Lexa was at least clear of that. She could get cover, moving into a more tactical position if she could shimmy herself through the broken glass of the foreman’s office window if worst came to worst. Lexa noted Anya’s crackle in her ear.

 

Dispatch, we’ve got eyes on one perp. Roan’s information is correct. There’s tunnels down here. Send a team to the abandoned Train Station. That’s the only escape route. My partner has it from the rear, I have them closed off from the front.”

 

“Copy that, Detective.” There was complete radio silence for a moment. 

 

“Orders?” Anya questioned with an authoritative boom. Lexa heard the click of her clip slide back in Anya’s pistol on the radios. She switched her own safety off. Anya flashed a laser dot toward Lexa’s position twice. Lexa flashed the laser at the end of her pistol back at her partner. They had eyes on each other, providing any cover needed. 

 

“Backup is en route. Proceed with caution. Take them down.” That’s all Lexa needed to hear. She flashed her laser three times, moving closer toward the steal beams. She exited behind the crates, ducking her slender frame behind a steel beam. The crates were directly behind her. Her boots grinded in the gravel, noting the man with Echo.

“You got the goods?” The tall man with dirty blonde hair called out to her. She sauntered up to him. He was dressed in combat military BDU pants and a light brown shirt. Dogtags dangled around his neck. Anya recognized him. 

 

“LEXA BE CAREFUL! SHOOTER, SHOOTER, SHOOTER!” She cried out in Lexa’s ear. Lexa recognized him as the visage of that night, replayed in her head. He was the second in the car who blared a ring of fire at the two a month prior. Lexa’s contempt grew with each passing second. She danced back and forth on her toes. 

 

“Yeah. But, just give me one extra thing.” Echo pressed her torso against the man’s. 

 

“Yeah? And, what’s that.” He candidly smiled, as Echo danced circles around him. She stopped dead in her tracks, clasping him by the shoulders. 

 

“You.” The man cocked his head to the side. Lexa rushed toward another beam, grateful that the three others with him did not notice her shuffle against the gravel. She let out a slow, heavy sigh, emitting no sounds, stalking her prey.

“That can be arranged.” The man drew her in, kissing her hard, like a hunting hound shaking a duck to snap its neck. Anya slowly crept in, keeping her center of gravity close to the ground. She didn’t, however, notice the concrete curb. She kicked one of the rocks into a metal drum. It rang out with the sudden alarm. Lexa’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. 

“Someone’s here.” The shooter pulled away from Echo, dread filled his entire face. He unholstered his pistol, resting it close to his face.

 

“We’re not alone… Come on.” Echo tugged at his arm, leading down toward the back entrance.

 

“Not without the goods.” The shooter shot wildly at the door towards Anya’s location. He let the semi-auto bursts roll off of his fingertips.

 

“Shots fired, repeat shots fired!” Anya called in, ducking under the flying bullets. She openly returned fire with equal amount of spurts. He ducked under his arm, holding Echo behind him. 

 

“To hell with the goods!” Echo rushed toward Lexa’s location, sprinting like a cheetah. 

 

“HOD OP, HOD OP, HOD OP! -stop, stop, stop- TONDCPD!” Lexa cried out, holding her pistol in Echo’s direction, finger on the side of her trigger. Echo’s gaze met the barrel of Lexa’s M9. She spun back around, rushing toward the tunnels. The shooter shot at Lexa, blindly, shuffling back to cover Echo further. Lexa ducked behind the beam. The bullets ricocheted around her head with piercing pings. 

 

"Oso souda lok em veida tro op fou bilaik emo hon emo sobwe op.-We must find the enemy patrol before they reach the tunnels.-” Anya cried out, jumping over the drum with a hand to stabilize herself. She retracted both of her feet, then landed on the gravel, skating on her knees behind a steel beam. The shooter fired over her head. He ran out, reaching into his pocket, clicking in a new clip.

 

“Sha! -Yes-” Lexa rushed the distance, lowering her center of gravity to skid on the gravel behind another beam like a runner sliding to steal home plate. She ducked under the metal. Anya fired her weapon at him, distracting him.

 

“Go, I’ll cover you!” The shooter cried out. Echo rushed in the tunnel. Lexa fired at him, hitting his hand. He drew it back behind his back, blood oozing from where the tip of his ring finger once was. Now, only jiggling stump of melted flesh remained. He fired out again with his cry. Anya burst forth a spurt of fire. Lexa charged toward him. 

 

BAM! Before she could get to cover, Lexa fell, stunned to the world. The shooter caught her twice in the shoulder. One bullet ricocheted off of her kevlar, the other dropped her to her back. She blinked her lids wildly, unable to breathe in gasps for precious air.

 

“LEXA!” The shooter used the time he bought to follow his woman into the dark of the tunnels. Lexa panted, short harsh breaths, searching her shoulder. Anya grabbed her by the kevlar vest, dragging her toward cover. Muzzle flashes from the tunnel fired wildly over their heads. “OFFICER DOWN, REPEAT, OFFICER DOWN!!!” Anya screamed to dispatch. “Lexa, can you hear me?! LEXA!” Lexa jerked up toward her butt, rocking back and forth. No blood. She rolled her rotator cuff, dragging herself toward her feet. 

 

“Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.-Get knocked down, get back up-” She panted. Anya pushed her partner back down. 

 

“No, Lexa! Your hit!” She searched every contour of Lexa’s sweaty brow. 

 

“Oso gonplei nao ste odon. -Our fight is not over.-” Lexa clasped Anya at the elbows. 

 

“Beja, Heda-Please, Commander- Stay down.” Anya pleaded. Lexa shook her head, stumbling back to her feet. They were getting away. She couldn’t let them get away. She had to go after them. She had to do it for her. 

 

“Oso throu daun ogeda!-We fight together!-” She shot warning lights in Anya’s searching gaze. After a brief second of consideration, Anya nodded. 

 

“Sha.-yeah-” She brushed off her Heda, nodding back toward her. Anya rushed toward where Lexa went down to retrieve her dropped weapon. She didn’t notice Lexa’s relentless sprint into the unknown. 

 

“LEXA!” Anya followed after, shooting at the empty air, covering her partner. Muzzle flashes fired back at Lexa’s head. She ducked by one crate, then shuffled toward another. Another fash, then another illuminated the room like a strobe light. Lexa calmed her panting breath, pushing through the quick memories of the obstacles. The flashes finally stopped. Lexa heard the gun drop to the concrete. He’s out, she thought. Anya fired over Lexa’s head toward the shooter.

 

“Daun laik ain!-That one’s mine!-” Anya stopped her return fire. Lexa lept overtop the crates, pressing the palms of her hands on the tops, flinging her legs through the air. She rolled under one, and slid under a beam blocking her way, catching her balance, like a puma at full speed, craving to rip its talons into a gazelle. She Lexa hurtled over another crate, flinging herself wildly through the air. She landed on the man. 

 

He punched her clear in the shoulder he shot her. She howled with the pressure. He freed himself, slipping through her grasp. She lunged once more, catching him at the feet. The man toppled over He struggled against her denial, but she gained the upper hand. Lexa twisted his arm behind his back, resting her knee over the small of it, wrapping her opposite leg around his, pinning him.   
“You are under arrest!” He lifted his head in struggle. “Stay down.” She filled her fingers with the man’s short hair, slamming his forehead in the edge of the concrete. He was out. 

 

Fifteen minutes later, backup arrived with paramedics. One set the shooter on the stretcher, wounding his bloody hand to his chest, loading him in the back of an ambulance, while the small team radioed in that they caught Echo and the others. They were being brought in for processing. Lexa’s blue-gray button down exposed her severely bruised shoulder. Anya shuffled away from her partner, heading towards their squad car.

 

“Good, now tilt your head back and and lower your shoulder…” Jackson demanded Lexa. She complied. “Great. Now look over towards me and lift your arm.” Lexa, again, did as she was told. “Looks like you got lucky this time. It's just a bruise. You’ll be okay within a week to two, give or take.” 

 

“Thanks, doc. Do I still need to go to the hospital?” She asked. 

 

“It’s not necessary, though I’d recommend it for something stronger than ibuprofen.” Jackson smiled. Anya ejected her lips, blowing hard. She climbed into her squad car, groping Lexa’s phone. She scrolled down to Clarke the Shark, pressing the call button. A few rings called out before the other line picked up.

 

“Clarke?” Anya questioned.

 

“Yeah.” Clarke was timid on the other line. It was Lexa’s phone, but it wasn’t Lexa. Her voice wavered with increasing duress. 

 

“It’s Anya. Lexa was shot.” It wasn’t the best choice of words, but it was matter of fact. Clarke’s crippling gasp broke that news to her. 

 

“WHAT?! WHAT’S HAPPENED?!” Clarke’s wavering creak grinded in Anya’s eardrums. She needed to call, but maybe she should have put on Lexa. Jackson was almost done. Lexa’s nimble fingers buttoned her shirt, clasping her velcro kevlar vest back to chest. 

 

“She’s okay. We are bringing in the perp and she’s being looked at by on site EMT. She’s just a little bruised, but she’ll be home soon.” Anya reassured her. Clarke’s silence was deafening. “Clarke?”

 

“T-thank you for calling.” Clarke responded after an inhuman shutter. 

 

“Anytime.” She clicked the end button, replacing Lexa’s phone back into the cupholder before exiting the car. She shuffled toward Chief Kane, who had just arrived on scene to unload her statement of the events that transpired. 

 

Clarke and Lexa

 

She slid the keys out of Clarke’s empty home. Lexa checked the time on her phone, three am. She tugged at her tactical gloves, throwing them on the floor by the door, kicking off her muddy boots. She didn’t want to trudge mud in from the warehouse. Lexa rotated her shoulder from the bruising of the shot, then slid off her jacket, setting it on the jacket rack on the wall. She unbuckled her utility belt, then ripped the velcro of her bulletproof vest. She grunted from the soreness and the relief of pressure. The small hole in the kevlar dug into her side with the residue of the lead. She picked it out with nimble fingers, setting it in her jean pocket. Lexa rubbed the back of her neck, trudging through the dark hallway toward the fridge. 

 

Octavia and Raven were out on the nightshift, while the boys were out at the bar, drinking it up. She opened the fridge. Blinding light flashed in her face. She drug out a bottle of beer, popping the top with the edge of her badge on her belt. She tossed it and the cap across the island. Clarke heard her shuffle, rushing her in a sprint. She didn't care she only wore boyshorts and a three-quarter sleeved baseball shirt. Lexa was home, safe. Being decent didn’t exactly cross Clarke’s mind. Lexa watched her bouncing rush in a blooming blush.

 

As Lexa took a sip, Clarke clutched her close, unable to breathe, with her arms around Lexa’s neck. Lexa spilled some of the amber brew down her chest. Clarke drew her in, while her arms were in the air, wide like a field goal in an American Football field. Clarke squished her face, kissing her hard. She drew away.

 

“Lexa! Are you hurt?!” She tugged at the side of her blue-gray dress shirt. Clarke’s hands flung to Lexa’s ears, holding her head captive to rest her frightened glance on the love of her life. “ARE YOU HURT?!” She demanded, sliding her fingers down, clinching Lexa at the bends of her elbows. Her penetrating gaze probed every inch of the Heda.

 

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m okay.” Clarke flew back into Lexa’s arms, cherishing her tight, scrunching her claws in the back of Lexa’s shirt. Lexa’s stare met above her head. She kissed Clarke’s hair, holding her just as tight. “I’m okay.” Lexa backed away, making direct contact with Clarke. “Anya called you, didn’t she?” Clarke nodded, reluctantly.

“When I heard, you got shot again…”

 

“I was wearing a vest. I’m just a little bruised. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Clarke searched her, tracing her hands down Lexa’s core. She shuttered with the electricity of her caress. She stopped, holding Lexa’s face in her hands.

“I don’t care! I thought I lost you again… I thought.” Lexa met Clarke’s hands with her reach, leaning into it. 

 

“You’re not gonna lose me.” She glided Clarke’s palm to her lips, drawing her in. Clarke’s searching worry transmuted into an anger. Lexa flashed her a quick half grin, pulling her into a cool kiss. Her lip stuck to Clarke’s. She lunged in for another collision, their noses bumped together in a boop, switching positions. Clarke rested her hands in the front of Lexa’s pocket. She drew away sharply, dragging out the bullet fragment from Lexa’s pocket. Lexa sucked in a deep breath. Clarke’s dismay read like a single line on a blank canvas. She stumbled back a few paces. 

 

“I TOLD you to be careful!” She threw the fragment in Lexa’s face. It bounced off between the bridge of her nose and eye. Lexa blew hot air out of her nose. 

 

“I made no promises.” Lexa tugged away from her, storming off into Clarke’s room. Clarke followed. Her step sunk heavy into the carpet below with thick thunks. This wasn’t over. Clarke wasn’t going to let her get away. Lexa slid out the bobbypins from her long hair, setting it around her shoulders. She weaved her fingers throughout her braids, waving her hair in and out. Clarke closed the door behind her. “I was. It was a drug deal gone sideways. We got one of the guys from the drive by.” Clarke froze, unable to breathe or think, or do anything. Lexa caught her in the reflection of her vanity. “We got him, Clarke. It’s okay.”

 

“D-did he shoot you again?” She exhaled after a moment of silence. She sat down on the edge of the bed, holding onto the post like a koala on a eucalyptus tree. 

 

“What?” Lexa didn’t quite catch what she asked. Clarke mumbled so fast. 

 

“Was he the one who shot you again?!” She cleared her throat. Lexa clenched her jaw. She didn’t want to lie to her, but she also didn’t want to give her a heart attack either. 

 

“Yes.” Clarke stormed toward the door. Lexa caught her by the hand before she met the handle. “Where are you going?” Lexa’s brow drew together, swinging her restless gaze all over Clarke’s heavy glow.

 

“Killing him.” She snatched her hand out of Lexa’s loving grasp.

 

“Clarke…” Lexa clasped Clarke by the elbows, denying her furious flight to the precinct. Lexa stared at her, lips parted. She was okay. That’s all that mattered. She wanted Clarke to know that it was all that mattered. 

 

“Let go!” Clarke fought against her. Lexa held her in close, pressing her body against Clarke’s. She refused to let go, no matter how much Clarke fought against her. “Let me go!” 

 

“No, Clarke. Sometimes you have to concede a battle to win the war. He’s in custody. We’ve won. You don’t have to go looking for trouble.” She brushed her hand above her brow, swiping Clarke’s hair behind her ear. Clarke shoved her hands in Lexa’s shoulders, pushing her away. Lexa held on, grunting at the pressure from the palms of her hands in her shoulder. Clarke recoiled, noting the harm she caused Lexa. Tears streamed down her face. 

 

“I want him dead!” Clarke held onto Lexa for dear life. She almost lost her again. Clarke felt like the universe was against them. They were star crossed lovers. She quaked against her love, pressing her body further into Lexa. She wanted to be one. 

 

“I know.” Lexa whispered in her ear. “I know…” Clarke trailed away, sliding her hands on Lexa’s face. She studied her every contour. In her eyes, she witnessed the birth and death of the universe. The bond was too intense, as if someone gingerly curled their fingers around Clarke’s heart, drawing her toward Lexa’s gravity. It was an ache, unlike anything, dull and deep like the calm before the hurricane. It was intoxicating, fuzzing her head like one too many glasses of wine. Staring back at her, Lexa knew exactly what Clarke felt. She wanted to sob like a newborn babe, gazing back into the raw depths of her soul, but caught herself. She clasped her eyes tight, then gazed up as she protruded her jaw to exhale. Lexa glanced at her feet in shame. She couldn’t take the misery. Her entire core shook like an earthquake about to split the Earth in two. 

Clarke lunged forward toward Lexa, colliding into her missing peace. She breathed her in deeper, drinking in her essence, intoxicated by Lexa’s taste. Clarke backed her up toward a wall, slamming Lexa into it with a gentle thud. Her silver-green eyes drove a drunken panic throughout Clarke. She felt her own tear slide down her cheek, as she pulled away to study her perfect face. Trembling, Lexa let out another tear, slowly luring Clarke in for another collision. Clarke feverishly hoisted Lexa’s thigh up around her, pushing her hands up the wall. Lexa sighed at the strain. Clarke’s perfect lips traced against Lexa’s neck and collarbone, as she slipped one free hand into the slits between the buttons of her dress shirt, winding between the cracks, unfastening each inch, while meeting Lexa’s stare. She averted her eyes to her lips. Lexa reciprocated the command, lunging once more. It was as if the full force of a dying star shattered stardust into oblivion. Clarke trailed away to study Lexa’s long face. 

 

Lexa drew her in, meeting her force yet again. Her flood met Clarke’s. Clarke imprinted her fingers across the scarring bullet hole. Lexa drug Clarke’s hand to her temple. Her gentle, somber gaze transmitted goosebumps throughout Clarke’s entire frame. For the first time in Lexa’s life, a warmness and safety drifted over her. Her lips still trembling, traced upon Clarke’s as if they were made just for that purpose. She set Clarke’s mind ablaze with feral desire. Her soft lips outlined, mindlessly, against Clarke, who stood hypnotized by her tenderness. She strained away, clenching her jaw with drunken need. 

Clarke clashed into Lexa, mouth wide to catch her lower lip, tears streaming down her face. She bit it, tugging gently. It released with a gentle clap. Her silver-green's etched unsaid words on Clarke’s skin: ‘I want to leave lipstick marks on the inside of your thighs.’

 

She threw Clarke against the wall. She gasped at the slightly rough thud. Lexa forcefully skimmed her lip underneath Clarke’s willing collar like a rabid animal. Lexa glided her silky fingers underneath Clarke’s golden locks, gently tugging at the roots. 

 

Clarke clung to Lexa’s breath for dear life, her lip quivering. She threw off Lexa’s buttondown, tossing it on the floor. She drew south, unbuttoning Lexa’s pants, while barely touching her lips. Lexa felt the cool echoes of her kiss, driving her into a feral desire. Clarke twisted around Lexa’s back, her moist lip lingering on the back of her shoulder met her neck. Lexa rolled her head backward, gasping out a moan. Lexa wrapped her arm backward, holding onto Clarke’s neck. She lingered her hover against her upper arm. Clarke dropped to a crouch. In one fell swoop, she tore at Lexa’s jeans, wrapping them around the bottom of her knees. Lexa kicked them to the side, bare to the world, just in her black laced thong. Clarke climbed back to her, twisting her arms around Lexa’s hipbones.

 

She gathered Lexa’s arms from around her neck, flipping her like a tango. She backed Lexa on top of the table next to them, then pinned her perfect, muscular arms above Lexa’s head with a thud. The table rocked back and forth. Lexa wrapped her legs around her beloved. Clarke’s mouth widened as she met Lexa’s lip, sliding her tongue between her teeth. Lexa was restrained, left to Clarke’s mercy. Her body quaked for her embrace, Lexa’s tears meeting Clarke’s. Lexa wanted her to take her hard and now. 

 

Clarke ran her hand under Lexa’s breast in a frenzy, while holding her arms captive with her other. Her icy fingers mindlessly glided south toward Lexa’s hip. Clarke’s, now, hot mouth enchanted Lexa’s with her worship. Lexa’s hip submitted to her restless excitement, grinding her pelvis into Clarke, as arcing waves of electricity threatened to electrocute her. It transmitted goosebumps upon both of their skin. Clarke licked her bottom lip, sucking it in, savoring her essence. Her grasp squeezed tighter. Her body fused to Lexa’s like puzzle pieces, seamlessly snapping into place. Lexa arched into her harder. It seemed to drive Clarke mad. She pulled away, peering into her soul from under her brow, muttering two words.

 

"You're mine." Clarke lowered her eyelids, spinning Lexa off the table, facing the wall. She slammed Lexa’s hands against it, trailing south against her back, driving across the smooth contours of her spine. Her soft lips cradled the small of her back. Lexa’s dimples caved while her she arched in hopeless surrender. Clarke skinned her tongue against the crevice, drawing Lexa’s intoxicating essence in. Lexa yearned for her sin; thirsted for Clarke to consume her whole. Clarke caught her lace thong with her teeth, descending the fabric to the floor, while tantalizingly scaling her lips on the inside of her thighs in the process.

 

“P-please!” Lexa cried out, unable to contain herself. Once they were off, Clarke pressed her body agaisnt Lexa’s awaiting exposure. She scaled her lips back up the inside of her thighs, twisting around her hip. She stood back up, walking her fingers from her hip, up her stomach, and between her breasts. She brushed her hair back, nibbling on her exposed neck. Lexa didn’t fight her. She welcomed the pleasure. Clarke clutched her at the upper of the arms, tossing Lexa across the room, backing her toward the silky sheets while lingering upon her awaiting mouth. They both couldn't believe this was happening at long last. 

 

Every piece of Lexa ached for Clarke in a harrowing plea. It all screamed out, I LOVE YOU, and I WANT YOU, all at once. Clarke slammed Lexa into the silk sheets, crawling on top like a predator sinking it's fangs into its kill. Lexa’s back instinctively arched at her tremble. Clarke sat atop her thighs. She rose to meet Clarke’s force. She breathed into her as her heart pulsed in her center, reverberating around her ears and back into the tips of her toes. She slid her baseball t-shirt from around her shoulders. It lingered around her hip. Her smooth flesh met Lexa’s searching grasp. She sighed at Lexa’s hands hungrily meeting her aroused mounds. Clarke tilted her head back in a relentless sigh. Her bare frame illuminated with soft crevices as she lunged once more. She searched every inch of Lexa.

 

Lexa rolled Clarke over quickly, leaning above her. She grinded her bare hips into Clarke’s pelvis. Lexa tossed her hair to her side, draping around her erect breasts, Clarke’s sky-blues petrified in a plea for Lexa to return and suck her kiss. Her chest sunk into her stomach with each pant. Lexa teased her lip, then traced her tongue toward her collarbone. Clarke sat up right. She refused to let Lexa look away from her stare, raising her hips, slowly sliding her boy shorts and shirt around her ankle. Lexa stewed in a blush from the contours of Clarke’s frame. She lay down atop her once more, hungrily searching every inch of Clarke’s mouth with hers. Clarke spun her, quick as she could, raising Lexa’s hands around her neck. They loosely criss crossed. Clarke cradled Lexa’s head as their tongues searched each other. Their skin stuck together as beads of sweat combined in a rain of sticky passion. She grinded her slit against Lexa’s, opening her mouth with a shock wave, ridden gasp. Their sticky wet combined, rubbing together faster. 

 

“L-Lexa!” Clarke cried out, furiously grinding her throbbing space against Lexa’s. Lexa clawed her sharp talons against the soft flesh, then rubbed the back of Clarke’s neck, craving to suck her kiss. Fresh red dots drug across Clarke’s back, tearing away with the sharp edges of Lexa’s nail. They bridged together, drawing tiny drops of blood to the surface in crisscrossing patterns. Lexa arched deeper into Clarke. She bent her head toward Lexa’s breast, sucking her in. Lexa cried out. Clarke exploded in a pulsating need, grinding faster and faster. Her love dripped down Lexa’s thigh. She ceased, winding down, then drew her silky skin across Lexa’s, savoring the crevices of Lexa’s stomach, tracing her gentle fingertips across Lexa’s scar. Goosebumps penetrated the surface of her flesh.

“P-please, don’t stop!” Lexa cried in agony. Clarke broke away, slowly coming down to slide her tongue against Lexa’s collarbone, between her breasts, careful to caress every inch as she tantalizingly drew south. She met Lexa’s hip in a tease, pulling her skin within Clarke’s mouth, leaving a red mark just below the bone. She grazed her teeth across leading toward Lexa’s center, careful to lick as she pulled in.

A moan roared from Lexa’s lip. It raised in pitch, drawing out with the creaks of the bed. She slithered up the pillows, slightly sitting up. Clarke glanced upward, connecting with Lexa’s eyes, suckling more while sliding her lips across the inside of Lexa’s thighs. She moved back up to her hipbone, lightly trailing south once more. The anticipation damn near killed Lexa. Clarke sensually skid the tips down just enough to linger. Lexa was locked in a defenseless agony, while Clarke slid her tongue down, close enough to meet Lexa’s slit. 

 

“C-Clarke!”, crippled from Lexa’s trembling lip. She scratched her nails up and down the sheets, curling her slender fingers within the silk. Lexa thought she was about to rip a hole in them as Clarke lapped her above Lexa’s slit. Lexa felt Clarke’s lip curl into a satisfied smile before sucking her in. She slowly ejected her tongue, lowering herself, then lapped her, drawing her in, and flicking her wildly about. Lexa couldn't contain herself. She threw a pillow over her face, arching her swollen back, biting the fluff. She tore a hole in the case, flailing off the bed. Lexa wrapped her legs around Clarke’s worshiping head. Clarke moved her hand up toward her slit, slowly plunging inside. Lexa couldn't take it. She wound her fingers in Clarke’s mane. “C-CLARKE!!! YES!!” Lexa felt her satisfied smile creep with each lap. She clapped Clarke’s ears with her thighs, pushing her head deeper in. “Don’t stop! Don’t. Oh FUCK!” Lexa pushed her head deeper in. Clarke plunged her tongue inside, penetrating her thirsting need. Lexa exploded in excitement, surrendering completely to the love of her life. Clarke grasped her hands, holding them bound in a restraint, intertwining her fingers within Lexa’s, while consuming her whole. Lexa’s legs spasmed. Clarke plunged in deeper. Lexa screeched, flailing off the bed like a seizure. She couldn’t hold on anymore. She just couldn’t. 

 

“Don’t. Stop. Don’t. Sop. C-Clarke! Nnnah!” Lexa begged in a low, growling whimper. She barely choked out the words, feeling Clarke’s satisfied grin. But, she did stop. She wiped her mouth on her shoulder, climbing back up on Lexa. Clarke stared Lexa dead in the eye, holding her hands above her head with one of hers, using the other to massage her entrance. Clarke loved watching Lexa’s face contort in a passion filled exasperation. Lexa howled, searching the depths of Clarke’s soul. Sticky passion poured from her loins. Clarke ejected her hand, rubbing her slit on Lexa’s once more. Their love dripped down each other’s thighs, relentlessly groping for an eternity.

 

After a few hours, they lay there stunned, Lexa’s back facing Clarke. She slid her fingertips up and down Lexa’s bare shoulder. Her body trembled. Like Aristophanes’ speech in Plato’s Symposium, Lexa was torn from Clarke with a bolt of electricity. They knew they would be empty without each other’s embrace. The poets say never to love the moon and stars. You always search for them, only to come up with empty hands. You can never expect them to love you back because they shine for others. Clarke and Lexa had a responsibility to their people, so they always beamed brilliantly, burning themselves up to give others light. 

 

Lexa realized Clarke was her moon and stars. She knew, now, she was Clarke’s sun. At long last, their universe finally collided, ending the endless searching. She was lost to Lexa for so long, and she finally found her. Lexa’s greatest fear, now more than ever, is that she will slip through her fingertips like sand. That petrifying thought scared Lexa to death, even worse than pardoning Roan and whatever may come. She wanted to weep. She couldn’t lose her again, especially now. Lexa’s soul ached relentlessly. Clarke mirrored her heart, without uttering a word. She drew herself closer, holding her bare frame against Lexa’s back.

 

Lexa was intoxicated by her and Clarke was in her veins. She nuzzled her face within the back of Lexa’s neck, gingerly whisping her lips upon the trace of her ear. She conformed her body around Lexa, twisting her legs between hers. Lexa bit her lower lip, careful to emit no sounds. For the first time, she felt protected, wanted, and that she wasn’t the biggest blight to her people. The world was right, and she swore, in Clarke’s arms, Lexa lived. Anya was right. Lexa was always focused on saving everyone and fixing everything. Clarke’s essence screamed she was here to save Lexa, even from herself. Even though they were naked, they truly felt truly exposed, knowing for the first damn time, they were home. In Clarke’s arms, Lexa was home…


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY!!! After long last, Clarke and Lexa FINALLY consummated their relationship. But, is everything really as it seems?
> 
> Will Lexa continue to be impulsive and lose herself from the once strong Heda?  
> Will Clarke tame her?  
> What will happen to this mystery shooter?
> 
> Find out more in the continuation of Only You!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a beautiful tragedy! She was draped in sin, cascaded in the depths of cataclysmic vulnerability. Even when she was drowning, the ground had fallen in love with the sky, all over again. But, the truth is, she never stopped.

Chapter 11  
Clarke and Lexa

 

“Mmm, good-morning.” She called out to the love of her life, laying on her stomach completely exposed to the world. The sheets lay on the small of her bruised back. Clarke also laid on her stomach, her curves rolled in the hills of her completely raw flesh from the residual claw marks and love bites. The rays of the sun glared down on the mess they made, pillows surrounding all edges of the mattress. Lexa lay her hand flat, stretching toward the doctor. Clarke inclosed the distance with hers, weaving her fingers through Lexa’s, who turned her head to face Clarke. She carefully studied her heart-shaped face. Clarke stared back. In those silver-greens, she saw the rising and fall of the sun each day, the meadows as the rays twisted their fingers through the leaves. Clarke crept closer to this beautiful creature she couldn’t believe laid next to her. Lexa shifted to her side, unable to quench the thirst for the naked girl beside her. She pressed the entirety of her body against Clarke’s, still weaving her fingers through. Lexa was the color of Clarke’s blood, and she ran deep in her veins.

 

Clarke needed to touch her, needed to be near her. She needed this woman more than she’s ever needed anyone or anything before; even more than breath. The urgency to devour her completely, to absorb her through her chest so her heart could finally be whole, overtook her. Clarke couldn’t take it. She held her body tight with Lexa’s, twisting her knees between hers. Lexa reached a paw to her cheek, stroking her hair back from her temple, just connecting within her soul. For a brief moment, they were one. Their bleeding hearts spead faster, pounding in time as one sentient being.

 

“Good-morning.” Clarke whispered back, skidding her nose toward Lexa’s, brushing her hot mouth against Lexa’s cool lip. Lexa breathed her in, intertwined in the sanctity of their love. She drew away, brushing her lip on Clarke’s neck, who softly sighed with the strain. “We should probably get dressed. I’ve got the night shift, and you’ve got an interrogation.”

 

“Or, we could just call in sick…” Lexa bounced her nose against Clarke’s, teasing her awaiting, open mouth. Lexa rested her forehead against Clarke’s.

 

“Heda, we’ve got a responsibility to our people.” Clarke sighed, unable to focus. Lexa drew her in deeper, clutching hold for dear life. She wasn’t about to let go. 

 

“Shh.” She kissed the tip of her nose. “You are my people.” Lexa whispered against her lips, lowering her lids to absorb every sigh that Clarke breathed. She slowly curled her bottom lip around Clarke’s top, sliding the tip of her tongue in Clarke’s awaiting mouth. She couldn’t take it. Clarke crawled on top of Lexa. The flow of her hair curled around her face and chest. Lexa leaned forward, sitting upright, her long fingers pressed against the small of Clarke’s back. They twisted their legs together, completely pressed against one another. The sheet draped around their legs, exposing their trunks to the cool air. Lexa loved her even more than she already had. She never thought it possible. Lexa laid her forehead on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke pressed her lips against Lexa’s ear. She could feel her smile on the tip and the tickle of her breath. “Do we have to?” Lexa whispered, her mouth resting on the under of Clarke’s jaw. 

 

“Unfortunately yes.” Clarke’s tickle drove Lexa wild. She nuzzled deeper into her beloved. 

 

“I don’t want to.” Lexa toppled her over, whining in her ear like a child begging their parent for five more minutes before lights out. Clarke giggled, falling over toward the foot of the bed with Lexa suddenly overtop of her. She pressed herself into Clarke, nuzzling her face into her neck and shoulder. “Don’t we deserve more than that?” Her muffled plea and sudden press of her lip on Clarke’s collar drove goosebumps throughout her core.

 

“Maybe we do, but we have to get up.” Clarke brushed her button nose against Lexa’s ear, softly pressing her lips to the tip. She attempted to climb back to a sitting position against Lexa’s denial. She clutched hold of her like a sloth on a branch, wrapping her legs around Clarke’s waist. Clarke turned her head to kiss her forehead, brushing the Heda’s hair back from her perfect face. 

 

“I know you’re right, Clarke, but I wish you weren’t.” Lexa snuggled into the under of Clarke’s jaw, resting the bridge of her nose against the vein under her ear. “I’m too comfortable.” Clarke grinned ear to ear, blowing sharp air out of her nose with a quick laugh. Lexa circled a finger around Clarke’s sternum. She could feel her heart beating, then a sudden pick up in the pace when Lexa opened her mouth, lightly suckling Clarke’s skin, grazing it with her teeth, then releasing it. She pressed her palm against her heart. “There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

 

“I-I missed this… Missed us.” Clarke glanced down while Lexa peered up. 

 

“I missed you too.” Clarke lowered her eyelids to die with her sun, while Lexa crawled completely on top of her, climbing to her awaiting lips. She slowly drew them into her enchanting adoration, setting her hands on Clarke’s temples. She breathed her in like oxygen after the suffocation. Clarke drew away.

 

“You can borrow my long sleeved shirt. I’m stealing yours.” Clarke smiled, tracing her fingers on Lexa’s luscious worship. Lexa lightly bit the pad of her forefinger. 

 

“Are you now?” She sucked in her finger, keeping complete contact. Clarke gasped, ready to go for round two, but she had to go. Lexa didn’t make it easy. She moved her hands over her mounds, flicking her arousal with nimble fingers and a taunting tease. She walked her fingers down Clarke’s side, ending on the lovebite close to the point under her hipbone. Clarke moaned with each caress. She really wasn’t making it easy to get ready to go. The hospital was already short staffed from the attack. Clarke HAD to go. 

 

“You better believe I am.” She removed her hand from Lexa’s lips, lowering it to her chin, drawing her into a quick peck, lingering the traces of her mouth on Lexa’s. Lexa couldn’t take the torture. She lunged in further. Clarke flipped her onto her back, raising her hands above her head. Her hair swirled around in a pool, haloing her. Clarke drew south, resting her lips on Lexa’s scarring bullet hole. She trailed back up to her shoulder, pressing her swollen mouth to the bruise. Clarke returned Lexa’s awaiting silver tongue. Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke’s neck, breathing her in. “I love you, Detective Woods.” Lexa attracted to her like a magnet. Clarke pulled away, jumping off of her. She flung her feet over the side of the bed. Lexa chased after her, turning to her stomach. “Come on.” Clarke slapped her bare ass. It bounced back and forth with a faint red handprint. Clarke blushed in her beauty. “Get dressed. I’m hungry.”

 

“Ugh…” Lexa buried her face into the pillows and sheets. Clarke slid on her boyshorts with a jump. Lexa peeked over toward Clarke, her hands pulling her hair into a messy bun. “Fine…” She rolled over, like a burrito in the covers, landing on the floor. Lexa stood up, wrapping her arms and the sheet around Clarke’s back. Clarke bent over, scooping up Lexa’s button-down. Lexa wiped her lips on Clarke’s shoulder, reaching her grasp at Clarke’s denial, not allowing her to grab her clothing. 

 

“I mean it, I’m stealing your shirt!” Lexa sat back down on the bed, draped in the sheet after kissing Clarke between the shoulderblades. She hit the back of her head on the mounds of the comforter, grunting with a sulk in the process. 

 

Clarke

 

The boys laid around the living room, coffee cups in hand, aspirin spread all over the table in front of them like a drug den. Murphy held his hands overtop of his eyes. Lincoln sipped on the brew while Bellamy rested back with his hands and coffee on his stomach. They all watched the twelve o’clock news broadcast, unable to move in their hungover nightmare. Clarke creaked open the door, only dressed in Lexa’s blue-grey button-down, loosely draped around her shoulders. The plops of her feet turned all of their heads. Lincoln smacked Murphy in the chest, giggling like a giddy schoolgirl. Clarke didn’t see Octavia’s or Raven’s jackets on the hanger, passing out of the hallway. She figured they were already at work. 

 

“Morning… Or should we say, afternoon?” Lincoln cracked a wide, toothy grin. He winked at Clarke as she passed, sipping the porcelain cup in his mitts. Clarke’s face scrunched, shaking her head. He chuckled under his breath.

 

“Late night?” Murphy mercilessly teased her with a smug grin. Clarke knew something was up. They all held their woozy heads in their hands, but slurred at the half-naked woman prancing to the kitchen for a bite. They were clearly hungover, so maybe the alcohol had something to do with it. Or, maybe it was what she had on, or lack thereof. 

 

“I think so. I mean we were hearing…” Lincoln paused, grinning with a blush. “SOMETHING.” Murphy fed off of his taunt. 

 

“Along the lines of “bam, bam, boom, boom, UGH CLARKE! HIT ME, DADDY! HARDER!””

 

“Shut up!” Clarke’s face bloomed, beat red. She charged deep into the kitchen, stomping hard with furious thunder. Lexa sheepishly crawled out of the room, draping her hair around her shoulder in Clarke’s dark blue, low cut, long sleeved shirt. It had holes in the cuffs for her thumbs. Lexa found it slightly comfortable, however, she did not like showing off her chest, especially full of lovemarks. She preferred that on Clarke. The boys snapped their attention, giggling while Lexa sauntered behind Clarke, resting her hands on her hips while kissing Clarke’s ear. 

 

“MOOOORNING!” Murphy half screeched. Lincoln set his pinky in his ear, wiggling it at the loud noise. Murphy instantly regretted it, clutching his head in his hands. Lexa jerked her head back, cocking it to the side, then raised a brow. 

 

“Shut the hell up, Murphy.” Bellamy rubbed his head in his hands. Murphy raised his.

“Jeze, just having a bit of fun!”

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you’d shut up.” Bellamy jolted forward, standing up. His hands swung in front of him with the momentum. 

 

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Lincoln defended Murphy. She never thought she’d ever see the day, but Bellamy hadn’t been the same since he, according to the guys, lost his “man card” by being taken down by someone under his weight class. The fact that it was a female didn’t cross their minds. It was the fact that they were both drunk, both fighting over the same girl, and the victor reigned supreme, gaining the mate. Clarke hated that they referred to that night with the same commentary found on Animal Planet. Even if Bellamy had won, she’d never go with him. In her mind, he was her brother.

 

“What’s your problem?” Clarke sapped, tired of the same passive aggressive bullshit. She loved him to pieces, but sometime, her “brother” was too much. 

 

“Could you be quieter?! I was trying to sleep!” Bellamy complained through gritted teeth. Lexa’s blush flushed across her high cheekbones. She hadn’t realizes just how loud they were. Clarke always taunted her for being a screamer, but she never thought it was really true.

 

“S-sorry…” Lincoln’s smile drew north, higher than the Everest. Clarke knew that he never thought it possible that anyone could make the Heda blush and reduced to a nervous teenager getting caught making out, outside of their parent’s house after a date. He owed Clarke twenty bucks. 

 

“Yeah, well, don’t do it again.” Bellamy was harsh, cold and tenacious. Clarke shot daggers in her disapproval. 

 

“Yeah, it was pretty loud.” Murphy stuck his pinky in his ear, rubbing fast. “I almost thought you were killing her.” He pulled it out, smelling it, then lowered his hand from his face. 

 

“Well, that’s a thought.” Bellamy muttered under his breath. Clarke caught it. Tired of his annoying behaviors, she wadded up a wet towel, tossing it at his head. It slapped him in the face with a sopping thud, curling around his nose, then dropping to the floor. Lexa pursed her lips, with the taxing task of not allowing her amusement to creep on her features. She spun back on her heel, drawing two coffee mugs from the cabinet overhead. 

 

“Lexa is here to stay, and you need to accept that.” Clarke puffed out her chest. 

 

“Yeah, whatever.” Bellamy backed down. He charged toward his room. Murphy and Lincoln glanced to one another. Bellamy was pissed, but Clarke knew he’d get over it eventually. Lexa was one of his best friends before, and she knew they would be best friends again. They were inseparable before Clarke and Lexa split, drinking together and playing Xbox, completely ignoring the good Doctor sometimes. She never thought she’d miss fighting for Lexa’s attention, but unbearable Bellamy wreaked of jealousy. 

“Sorry about him.” Clarke rummaged through the fridge, drawing out the creamer. She poured an inch in the bottom of a cup, while Lexa poured the coffee. Clarke replaced the creamer, then circled around Lexa’s frame, pulling out the drawer, lifting a spoon with nimble fingers. 

 

“It will take some getting used to again.” Lexa turned her head, pressing her lips to Clarke’s cheek. Clarke’s creeping grin widened. Lexa spun around, coffees in hand. She placed the black one in Clark’s paws, sipping on her amber brew. The spoon slid around the rim, smacking Lexa in the corner of the mouth. She smiled. Clarke remembered exactly how she took her coffee, and Lexa loved her all the more for it. If only she could actually say it…

 

“Hey, you gonna come by tonight?” Clarke set her cup down with a gentle thud. 

 

“Naturally. I like seeing you in those scrubs.” Lexa rested against the countertop. Clarke stood in front of her. “BUT I like seeing you in my shirt better.” Lexa grasped Clarke by the buttons of her shirt, drawing her in. Clarke followed the trail, meeting her lips. Lexa stretched her hands on Clarke’s shoulders, crossing them. 

“Get a room!” Lincoln cried out, over his shoulder, after readjusting to face the television, sitting on the couch. 

 

“Nice.” Murphy leaned over, high fiving his brother-in-arms. Clarke rolled her sky-blues, creeping into a half smile, then climbed back aboard Lexa’s caress express. Lexa’s pocket began to violently buzz. She jolted with the vibrations.

 

“Is there a phone in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” Clarke giggled. Lexa shook her head at the bad, dirty, dad joke. She lifted the shiny box, noting a call from Anya, clicking the answer button. 

 

“Anya…” She sighed. Clarke smiled at her. “Alright.” Lexa crossed her arm under her chest. “Okay. I’m on my way.” Lexa ended the call. Clarke drew her cup to her lips with both of her hands. She lifted a cressant roll from the island, shoving it in her mouth. She tore off a piece, gliding it between Lexa’s teeth. Lexa took the offering, puckering her lips to kiss Clarke’s finger. 

“Any breakthroughs in the case?” She set her empty cup in the sink, returning to Lexa’s side, curling her fingers around her hipbones. Lexa reached her grasp over Clarke, drawing her badge into her nimble fingers. Bellamy returned to the group, clad in his BDU pants and a gray t-shirt. His dogtags dangled around his thick neck. He rolled his eyes at Clarke’s public display of claiming.

 

“We have a lead. We will be interrogating that guy we brought in, but you already knew that. I can’t tell you anymore, sorry.” Lexa brushed her lips on Clarke’s forehead. 

 

“I still wanna kill him.” Clarke curled into her, fusing her body against Lexa’s. Lexa fell into her gravity. She didn’t want to let go. Lexa rested her groggy head on Clarke’s shoulder, brushing her lip against the corner of her collar. Clarke held her closer. 

 

“That makes one of us.” Bellamy cried out with extreme jealous exasperation. 

 

“Do you mind?!” Clarke snipped at him. Bellamy sat down, kicking his boots on the coffee table. He turned up the volume on the television. A sudden ringing from the reporter caught Lexa’s attention. She lifted her head, drawing away from Clarke. She stomped toward the back of the couch.

 

“Wait, Bellamy, turn that up.” Lexa demanded. Bellamy lifted the remote, adjusting the volume. 

 

“The top leading story today, Ex-Mayor Jaha has just been sworn into office as the newest Senator of TonDC.” Lexa’s eyes drew wide. She peered at the screen, unable to fathom what she was hearing. “We have a cut to his statement, addressing the citizens.” A massive crowd on the steps of the House of Senate formed around the man. His wife, Alie stood by his side, crossing her legs, holding her hands under her chest. Her hair draped around her neck in a thin, red, pencil dress. Thelonius Jaha beamed with pride. Bulletproof plexiglass surrounded his head, as he stood at the podium.

“We will not be ruled by fear in this war waging in our cities! We will not let this Trikru or this Azgeda bring about more chaos to our neighbors! The attack on Arkadia Hospital will not go unpunished, and I will personally see that these two gangs be brought to justice! This, City of Light pill is a plague on our society and must be stopped with all forces and extents of the law.” Clarke stared at Lexa, mouth gaping open. Lexa’s stair drew cold with a thirst for blood. 

 

“I have received reports of a masked woman attacking known Azgeda and Trikru bars in the dead of night. We will not let this masked vigilante and her goons do our police work! This is not justice, and we will make sure that they are taken down first and foremost before more citizens try to copycat what this woman is doing! Please, in this time, be safe and do not attempt to approach these madmen and women. Thank you! That’s all the time I have questions for.” Camera flashes snapped his picture, while clatter from reporters rang out in unison. They shoved their recorders in his face, trying to get one last quote for their editors. The newscaster reappeared on screen.

 

“Senator Jaha was sworn in with his wife, Alie standing proud at his side. He had stated to us at the TonDC Newsroom, that he just wants to “make his son’s memory proud.” Wells Jaha was slain by Trikru insurgents, and would have been twenty this fall.”

 

“What a load of horse shit! Superheros now?” Murphy broke the deafening silence. Lexa dug her nails into the palms of her hands, resting at her side. Clarke refused to avert her gaze from the detective. “Yeah, right. Emori needs to be more careful out there, leading the forces. Someone’s gotta actually do something about them.” Murphy stuffed a roll in his mouth. Lexa’s dragged her hawkish gaze toward him. 

 

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t just hear that.” Murphy raised his hands into the air, surrendering. Lexa couldn’t believe he just admitted to knowing these vigilantes. She didn’t even know about the vigilantes. No one would talk about the case with her while she was in the hospital, just pieces of what she needed to know. She had to go, had to get answers from Anya as to why this was the first time she was hearing about it. Clarke knew Lexa’s contempt blead through her stern, unnerved, long face. She rested her fingers on the bend of Lexa’s elbow to calm her. Lexa sucked in a deep breath, and so did Clarke. She knew she just soothed the beast.

 

“Whatever, man.” Murphy shrugged. Lexa sighed sharply, shaking her head. She trudged toward the coat rack, pulling the sleeves of her jacket over her long arms. She rested her vest on her shoulder. Clarke’s lashes swept up, her worry traveled with unnerving thoroness. She studied the indent on the vest and the faint bruise poking out of the jacket. Lexa studied her, noticing her worry.

 

“Hey…” Clarke crept the distance, resting her hands on Lexa. She needed to touch her. She needed to see that she was okay and it wasn’t just a dream that she’d wake from. She knew it wasn’t, but the earth shattering fear was there. Lexa dropped her vest to her side, out of Clarke’s view. The end scraped against the floor. “It’s gonna be harder to touch him, but I know you’ll get your man.” Clarke gulped.

 

“Think so?” Lexa raised a flirtatious, inquisitive brow. She needed to set her mind at ease before leaving, but she didn’t know how. Clarke was a worrier. She worried about everything. 

 

“I know so.” Clarke couldn’t handle it. She choked on her words, feigning her calm. Lexa was brash, stern, but extremely passionate. She was hard headed, but never hard hearted, and Clarke couldn’t stand that she wasn’t home safe in bed with her; that she was leaving again. Her mind raced to the worst. What if she was drawn back into the OR again, and she couldn’t save her? What if she was shot between the eyes, and Clarke couldn’t even be there with her? She squeezed her eyes, fighting the growing what if’s haunting her. “Well, go get ‘em.”

 

“No worries.” Lexa knew. One look at Clarke, and she knew exactly what Clarke was thinking. She rested her lips on Clarke’s forehead. She drew away from her and Clarke choked on the cold air between them. 

 

“I’ll always be worried.” She focused on Lexa’s lips. She craved them. Lexa’s plea began to sound much more tantalizing. Maybe they did deserve a day off. Maybe, they did deserve more, to lay around all day in the warmth of her embrace. 

 

“I’m not.” Bellamy broke the tension. He stuffed a roll in his gob, obnoxiously chewing it with a slapping smack. Lexa and Clarke both dramatically drew their attention toward the giant two-year-old who was sulking because his favorite toy was taken away from him. Lexa rolled her eyes with an amused smirk. 

 

“Seriously?!” Clarke snapped at Bellamy, turning her attention toward him. Lexa rested her forehead against Clarke’s temple, lowering her lids. She wisped her lips against her hairline. Clarke turned her head, catching her by the mouth. She stood on the tips of her toes, meeting Lexa’s height, reducing the strain. Clarke crossed her arms around Lexa’s neck. Lexa dipped her backward, smiling in her kiss. Clarke giggled, nodding her head to brush her nose against Lexa’s. Lexa gave her button a peck, then her forehead, before picking up her vest, to turn toward the door.

 

“Be safe.” Lexa creaked open the gate to the outside world. Clarke caught Lexa by the hand, spinning her into her embrace once more. Clarke rested her hands on the sides of Lexa’s face, forcing her to look her dead in the eye. “Try not to get shot this time.”

 

“I make no promises.” Lexa placed a loving smooch on the side of Clarke’s temple. She turned her back to the room, raising her hand in good-byes to the boys. Clarke loved her domesticated Lexa. She was a wild fire that couldn’t be tamed, but somehow, she managed to make the impossible, possible. Clarke watched her march all the way down the end of the street, securing her helmet to her head, which once sat on the handlebars of her Harley. Lexa waved to the girl, draped in her dress shirt, staring at her from the entrance of her front porch. She fired up the engine, kicking her boots backward, then rode on. Clarke’s blush transformed into a fire of death.

 

“Bellamy, what the hell is your problem?” She stormed over toward the manchild, setting her hands on her hips . She wanted to slap him across the jaw, but it would only feed more fule on the fire. 

 

“I’d answer no comment on this one. Less you wanna get your ass kicked.” Murphy acted as his public relations moderator. Bellamy narrowed his eyes, crinkling his lip. 

 

“You’re not doing THAT in MY house.” He crossed his arms with a sour expression. Bellamy puffed out his chest. Clarke’s blood ran cold, unblinking from him. Bellamy’s brevity broke.

 

“First off, it’s not your house. Raven, Octavia and my name is on the lease, and second, just because you’re sulking doesn’t mean you get to be a jackass.” She refused to swing her restless gaze anywhere but his shameful sorrow, crossing her arms like a mother scolding her child for fighting. 

 

“I’m staying out of this.” Lincoln threw his hands on the couch. He turned off the television, then stood up, stretching. He stubbed his toe, jumping up and down, half rushing out the front door. Clarke thought he was a wise man because she was about to throw down.

 

“Me too. Good luck with the Princess, man.” Murphy followed suit.

“This isn’t over, Clarke.” Bellamy also stood up, towering over Clarke. She merely followed his trail upward in his half-cocked attempt to intimidate the mighty Wanheda. If she could make one of the greatest detectives TonDC had weak in the knees, she sure as hell could stand up to the one man who reminded her most of her father on his worst days. Bellamy was full of passion, which, to Clarke, translates as a caring jackass. 

 

“Yes it is.” She stomped her feet all the way back toward the kitchen with Lincoln and Murphy’s coffee cups, resting them in the sink basin. Bellamy trailed after her. 

 

“Who made you in charge, huh?” He tightly gripped her by the wrist. She pried her hand from his hard grasp. “Why do you always get to decide it’s over?!”

 

“I’m doing the best I can, okay? I know. I know how you feel, but you need to stop!” 

“You can’t decide how I feel!” Clarke reached into the cabinet. Bellamy shut it with his palm, pressing it against the painted plywood, reaching at the length her head. He trapped her in with his body. “You keep stringing me along like a dog on your leash and I have blindly followed.”

 

“No, I don’t!” Clarke ducked under his arm, freeing herself from his trap. 

 

“Yes you do!” He dragged his feet around to stare at the doctor, balling his quaking hands in his fists. His tight lips pursed into a smile, before sucking his teeth, gasping for breath. Bellamy stared at the overhead lights. Tears filled his ducts. “I’m in love with you and you keep flaunting IT in front of my face! How else am I supposed to take it, Clarke?!”

 

“You’re my brother!” Clarke screeched with a crack in her velvet, rasp. Her brow furrowed and her mouth turned grim, wondering around his broken soul. 

 

“Brother? Yeah, way to make me feel like a creep.”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying, but I can’t change how I feel. It can’t be helped!” The air grew heavy and the light dimmed around them. Clarke studied him, while Bellamy stared at the floor in the corner of his eye. Clarke sighed. Bellamy behaved like a pup who was scolded for rummaging through the waste bin. Clarke swallowed the lump in her throat. “We need each other, Bellamy.”

 

“Do we?” His voice deepened, shaking under his breath. He inverted on himself, almost curling into fetal position while standing. Bellamy threw his head back, opening his mouth, blinking the stars away. 

 

“Yes!” He returned his attention back on Clarke. “Look, Azgeda attacked Arkadia, and the war is starting to come to a head, especially with Jaha being appointed the Senator! I need you. I need the guy…” She choked on her words. “Who wouldn’t let me fall apart even when I wanted to die. The guy who stood by me when all hell was breaking loose!”

 

“Go ask Lexa.” He croaked.

 

“Bellamy…”

 

“No, Clarke! I’m not your last resort!” He stormed away toward the hall. Clarke was stunned. She couldn’t believe him, shaking her head.

 

“I never said you were!” Bellamy stopped dead in his tracks. “I missed you…”

 

“Did you?”

 

“Yes!” Clarke’s gaping mouth quivered, stars reflecting against her seas.. She didn’t want him to leave like this. She wanted her brother back. She wanted to be okay again. She wanted Lexa and him to get along like they used to. God knows, Lexa needed a friend more than ever. She was lost, and Bellamy understood her almost as well as Clarke. He never let her get away with her stoic suffering, especially when Clarke couldn’t snap her out of it. She just wanted her family home again, not just physically, but spiritually. “I may not be in love with you, but I do care. I DO love you, just not the way you want me to.”

 

“You left me! Left us on your rebound from Lex. We all trusted her, but…” He stopped. He didn’t want to have the same conversation again that would only lead him nowhere. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. The point is, I don’t trust her and neither should you.”

 

“That’s your opinion.” Clarke’s heart broke. She knew that it would be different this time around. If you crinkle a paper, then smooth it out, it will still be the same paper, but it won’t be a flattened, crisp new piece like it once was. She had to accept that, somehow. Clarke knew she did. Bellamy sucked in the cool air through his nose, returning to Clarke’s side.

 

“I’ll help, but it’s not for her. It’s for you. It’s only been for you.” Clarke nodded. It was a step. At least, he wasn’t giving up. At least, Bellamy was trying, and that is all Clarke could hope for.

 

 

LEXA

 

Anya waited for her partner, pressing her fist to her chin, pacing the floor, while resting her other arm against the under of her chest. She was late, seriously late. Anya called Lexa in over forty minutes ago, and she lives only five minutes from the precinct. She was worried Lexa was dead in a ditch somewhere, especially after being shot more than once. She dug holes into the tile below her until suddenly, a beacon of light crawled in the room. Anya pursed her lips, unable to find the words for her partner, or her sudden shock of Lexa dressed in Clarke’s clothes, she wore the most. 

 

“Shof op.” Lexa addressed Anya’s prying gaze. 

 

“I didn’t say anything.” Anya half chuckled, relieved that at least, she wasn’t dead.

 

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.” Lexa’s messy, knotted hair draped around her shoulders. She didn’t bother tie it back. She was already uncomfortable in the low-top, ad she didn’t want her partner to notices the OTHER marks. Anya handed her a ponytail holder anyway. Lexa rolled her eyes, combining her hair at the back, while setting the holder between her lips. Anya cocked her head to the side, noting Lexa’s lovebite on her hairline, behind her ear. A redness swelled upon the Heda’s cheeks. She smacked her giggling partner. “What have we got.” Lexa popped the collar of her leather jacket.

 

“We’ve the shooter in the interrogation room. Are you ready?” Anya briefed her second. 

 

“We need answers. Are you?” Anya nodded in response. Lexa reached toward the handle of the room. Anya gently set her fingers on top of the Heda’s. Lexa retracted her hand, glancing up toward Anya. 

 

“Before you go in, I need to tell you something.” Anya was stern. Lexa knew something was seriously wrong. She released her hand from the handle, facing her partner head on, while other officers stormed by. Octavia nodded, dragging Echo into the other interrogation room, whose hands were cuffed behind her back, leaning forward on the true walk of shame. 

 

“What is it?” Lexa whispered close enough that she wouldn’t be overheard. Anya picked up on her worry, quieting her voice as well. 

 

“I worry about you, Heda. You’ve been shot by this guy.” 

 

“So were you.” She didn’t understand the question, if there was one. Lexa figured Anya was just terrified she’d react the same way with Roan. This guy was different. There was no amnesty for his damned soul. She could offer him a plea bargain, but she wouldn't let another one off the hook so easily. 

 

“But, it was twice!” Anya argued. “You’re bruised all to hell on your back from that drunken idiot Clarke hangs around. You’re bruised all to hell in your shoulder.” She lifted her jacket, exposing the blistering blackness drawn to the surface. Lexa smacked her hand away. “Your stitches may be out, but that doesn’t mean that your hole is completely closed all the way through. Maybe…” Anya cleared her throat. “Maybe you should take some time? A sabbatical? You’re not in the right frame of mind. You’re reckless, emotional. I mean, with Clarke, you’ve lost your edge. I didn’t train you like this.” Lexa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had her partner so little faith in her? She did lose her edge after getting shot, but this attack was personal. It was all personal, for her older sister who was murdered in the Azgeda attack with Aden, for Costia, for Clarke, and everyone she ever cared about. She knew letting those feelings in would only put those she loved in danger, but she didn’t know how to not let those feelings in. Clarke softened her, and Anya knew it. “And, I know, you said all you ever do is feel, but that’s not what we need right now. We need your head together. The chief is worried everything is affecting your ability to do your job.”

 

“Are you issuing a vote of no confidence to get me off the beat and back on desk duty?” Lexa cocked her frenzied glow on her partner’s betrayal. She knew Anya didn’t train her to lead with her heart and not her head, but it was hard to follow where Clarke was concerned. She knew what she had to do: separate herself from her feelings to rule with an iron clad fist while delegating and enforcing the letter of the law. Lexa snapped into shape. 

 

“NO! Though, some are considering it on the disciplinary board. They’ve voiced their concerns to Chief Kane.” Anya approved of her straightened posture, her cold, calculated exterior. That was the Heda she knew and loved, not the puppy waltzing in forty minutes late to work. 

 

“If this is about Roan…”

 

“It’s not just with Roan. Look, some of them are in Jaha’s pocket. Some are genuinely concerned.” She brushed her restless glance down the hallway toward the other ground patrol. “Maybe you’re better off backing down on this one.”

 

“Anya, this isn’t like you. You’d never ask me to back down from a fight, nor would I ever. Is someone?” 

 

“I just was to talk to you is all. You’re my second, and I care, Lexa.” She searched Lexa’s features for any sign of feelings. She found none. Anya nodded, approvingly. 

 

“Then you put me in danger. I am a tool to enforce the law and gain answers.” Anya didn’t like this response and Lexa knew it. “But, I’ll think about it. For you. But, my mind is clear and won’t be easily swayed. I’m not backing down.” She growled in an authoritative rasp. Anya proudly smirked. There was her Heda. 

 

“Alright.” Anya swept her hand toward the door. “Shall we?” Lexa reached over toward the handle, opening it. Anya filed in right after her. They stalked the man, sulking in his hands. He jerked forward, sitting upright, prim and proper. He crossed his arms, lifting his chin in a daring challenge. Lexa raised a brow in response, deafening his display of showing off who has the bigger...

”Here, I was sure Titus would have finished the job by now.” He half-heartedly grinned. Lexa sucked in her bottom lip, releasing it while stretching her neck. She flipped the chair opposite of the man around, straddling it. 

 

“Why did he attack?!” Lexa breathed with an intense pressure. Her silver-greens burned holes in the man’s brown ones. His lips parted at her cold dead concentration. He shifted , hitting back hard in their display of power, back and forth. Anya shot her a warning glance. Lexa backed off, only slightly. She conceded the battle of fire. 

 

“Let’s start more simple.” Anya sat against the table, crossing her legs. “We know what was in those crates. Azgeda put a pretty penny on those chips. Bet you were trying to cheat them out of more money.” 

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The shooter raised his chin, leaning back in his chair. Lexa rolled her eyes, leaning forward. She slid a file across the metal table, flipping it open in front of him. The shooter peered at her under his brow.

 

“Have you sampled the product? Those city of light chips must give you the best high. No worries. No pain. No fear.” Lexa cocked a brow, tapping her finger on a picture of a blue see-through octagon with an infinity symbol etched on it. 

 

“Just long lasting time and tranquility.” Anya picked up where Lexa left off. She tapped her foot in time with the ticking of the clock. It was a psychological mind-game to subconsciously state that time was ticking and he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, less he gave them what they wanted. 

 

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.” The shooter flipped the folder back over, flicking it back toward Lexa across the table. Lexa merely grinned in a sick sadistic aura of loathing. The hair on the man’s forearm stood on edge.

 

“Bet you Tristan said something different.” Lexa handed the file to her partner, refusing to release her strength in her darting silver-greens. She made the man uneasy.

 

“What’s he got to do with anything?” He seethed. Tristen was the driver during the drive by and Anya had caught him while Lexa was still in the hospital. Lexa hadn’t officially talked with him, however Kane and Anya had. She merely kept the guise that she had, when she only read the file. Anya picked up on her bluff, backing it with periodical evidence. 

 

“Yeah, Tristan. We have him in custody. Gave up the supplier all the way to the top for a plea deal for the drive by.” Anya sucked her teeth. “Attempted murder on two officers, that’s what fifty years to life? His was reduced to twenty-five years with a chance of parole. Maybe, just maybe, if you cooperate, you will be shown the same leniency.” Anya fibbed. There was no way that Tristen was going to receive anything but fifty years to life. He did receive parole with good behavior in the plea deal, however.

 

“Yeah, he gave up your supplier making all of these chips in the first place. Senator Jaha and his wife Alie?” Lexa tossed another file in front of him, opening it to a distribution factory found in the ruins of the Train Station. It was small. There were photos of police burning the chips, while taking samples of the distribution area. It was just enough to get him talking. “Bet you those chips will be scarce soon, won’t they, Emerson?”

 

“What do you want?” Emerson creeped forward, dropping the tough-man facade. Lexa sat, triumphant in her glow, knowing she got the mercenary to crack. 

 

“Titus’s location. We can give you a plea deal like Tristen. I mean, unless you want us to give Echo immunity for revealing the location instead. She’s just in the other room with one of our top field agents. She has her ways.” Anya bantered.

 

“She also gave up the source before our associate could… persuade her in unconventional means.” Lexa winked at Emerson. 

 

“Then why haven’t you arrested Jaha yet?” He questioned, unbelieving that the police would actually attack a woman for information. Lexa stretched her neck, rubbing her hand on the back of it. 

 

“In time.” She flipped the other file back over, gliding it with the tip of her forefinger toward her partner. Anya scooped it up. 

 

“Don’t you want to be the hero for once, Emerson?” Anya berated his sense of honor. “The once great secret service agent for President Wallace reduced to a washed up mercenary peddling drugs for a corrupt senator, feeding into a gang war he knows nothing about.”

 

“I think you haven’t arrested him yet because you’ve got nothing. You’re both full of shit.” Blood rushed to his swollen face. Lexa laughed in his face, pointing to him Anya chuckled back. His face bloomed even more red to the tips of his ears. Lexa glanced at Anya, who nodded the go ahead for one last attempt: their trump card.

 

“We also know about Titus’s second. Indra, is it? I'm pretty sure we’ve got a lock on the location where you Trikru store your goods.” This got him. He fell right into Lexa’s trap. Lexa wanted to go in for the kill, but she let Anya play off. 

 

“I’m not Trikru. I’m just the middleman.” Emerson choked. He had nothing left, and Lexa knew it. She beamed with pride. He tested his might to keep composure, but with just a little more prying, Lexa knew she would break him.

 

“Middlemen always take the side of one over the other. Bet you Trikru pays more too. What is it, $93,000 per shipment delivery is your cut with them versus the $50,000 Azgeda gives you? The ruins of the Polis spire?” Anya poured herself a cup of water from the glass pitcher in the middle of the table. She sipped on the crystal lifeforce. Emerson brushed his head in his hands, rubbing the back of his head toward the floor, weaving his fingers through his short, dirty-blonde mop. “We can bust that place with all probable cause. It’s a wasteland. We don’t need a warrant.”

 

“And I know every inch of that place. I used to live there.” Lexa did it! She was so close to a confession, she could taste it. She wanted to call Clarke and tell her everything, that the turning point was nigh and that justice would be done for the attack on Arkadia; the attack on her partner and her. 

 

“I’m aware.” He had been talking to Titus, and she knew it. He just didn’t know who Lexa really was. She was cocky, and let it out. 

 

“Then you also know, Ai Laik Heda. -I’m the Commander.-” She looked down on him from the edge of her nose, but Emerson chuckled. Lexa glared at the man. Everything snapped into place, and Lexa still hadn’t caught on yet for her fatal mistake.

 

“Wait, you’re the Commander? Huh, it all makes sense now.” Emerson sucked his teeth. “No wonder he attacked you.” He sighed, pitying the girl, leaning back in his chair. Lexa’s brow furrowed, unable to get a read on him. She was so damn sure she had him. He relaxed, apologetic. “Look, it was nothing personal against you. In fact, Titus always talks about how much he loves the Heda and sees her as his own daughter.” This startled both Lexa and Anya. “Lexa, is it?” She nodded. “Titus wanted to take you out with honor before you knew the truth. Before SHE would track you down and kill you.”

 

“Knew what? Who’s SHE?” Her vision narrowed. Lexa was tired of the mind games. 

 

“One of you Nightbloods in the spire survived the Azgeda attack.” Lexa shook her head. She was there. She watched them all burn. 

 

“You lie.” She slammed the palms of her fists into the metal table. Anya’s mouth parted, witnessing her partner slowly rise out of her seat. Emerson grinned ear to ear. He had won with his own trump card. 

 

“What do I have to lie about?” His fingers unfolded from their clasp on his stomach. He peered directly at the furious Heda. 

 

“Explain.” Lexa boomed.

 

“One name.” Emerson raised a finger up by his mouth.

“Say it.” Anya filled the void before Lexa had a chance to retaliate. She had a hunch, but she wasn’t a hundred percent sure until she heard heard the name fly from Emerson’s lips, staring at her partner with increasing fear-filled worry. Lexa’s eyes expanded, threatening to bulge out of her head. 

 

“Luna.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna's Alive?! What could this possibly mean for our heroes?!
> 
> Will Lexa come unhinged and kill Emerson?
> 
> Will Clarke Find out?
> 
> Find out more in the continuation of Only You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is a little late, BUT!, the chapters are getting longer as we are coming to a head. It will end after 17 chapters. 
> 
> WARNING! Some of the content may be NSFW! You have been warned. 
> 
> -RoseBlood93

Chapter 12

 

“Explain.” Lexa kicked the seat from under her, across the room. It fell backward while she grabbed onto the metal table, dragging her talons across the top. How could this be? Luna alive after all this time?! She wouldn’t try to kill her. That wasn’t her style. She was a peacemaker, a pacifist while Lexa was the calculating muscle of the duo. 

 

“Ah, I thought you would know by now. You’re a detective after all.” Emerson bobbed his cocky head back and forth against the force of the Heda’s words. His smug grin tore holes in her as deep as any bullet could tear through her flesh. Emerson had won. 

 

“That’s impossible! Luna is dead!” Lexa inched closer to his face, reaching her paws out in a furious crouch, ready to pounce on him and tear him asunder. “And, if she were still alive, she’d be helping us, not against us!”

 

“Lexa…” Anya warned, but Lexa couldn’t see past her blinding rage. There was no getting through to her, and what Anya had warned before entering the enclosed space came to light. She was out of control.

 

“YOU LIE!” Lexa lept over the table, toppling him over. She laid hands on Emerson, grasping him by the shirt to pick him up with bulging biceps. Lexa dragged him to the two way mirror, thrashing his frame in the glass. He laughed in her face. “You think this is a game?! Do you?!” Her nose crinkled in a furious threat, fist drawn for a killing blow. “DO YOU?!” Anya grabbed at her hand before she could drive it down into his throat. 

 

“LEXA! TAKE A WALK!!” Anya threw her fist down to the earth below. Lexa released the man, throwing him, stepping forward toward her partner. Anya backed down as Lexa stared at her with the same intense look she gave when she found Costia’s head. She shuddered, fearing her partner’s blinding rage. Lexa was a wildfire that couldn’t be tamed, and that unknowing frightened Anya to death. Emerson brushed off his shirt, standing back upright. “Take a walk…” Anya bellowed in a soft plea. Lexa sucked in a deep breath. She needed to see Clarke. It was the only way she could calm down the way Anya wanted. She needed her stability after the rug was pulled from beneath her. Lexa hated surprises. 

 

“I’ll be waiting, Detectives.” Emerson picked up his chair, sitting back down with a smug grin. Anya pushed Lexa out of the door before she could attack the man once more. She grabbed at the Heda, slamming the it behind her.

 

“What the HELL was that?!” Anya scolded her partner. Lexa stepped close to her, challenging her. Anya refused to back down from the challenge. 

 

“I have to find her. There’s no possible way she’s alive.” Lexa snapped, defending her actions to the one person she never thought she’d have to. She never thought it possible that she would have to explain herself to her, especially when the matters of their family came in the mix. 

 

“Lexa…” Anya reached out to her, unable to say what was on her mind. She tried to get her partner to calm down enough so she could tell her something. Lexa paced back and forth, mindlessly digging holes in the tile. She clenched her jaw, blowing out hot air from her steaming lips, trailing back and forth. Lexa wanted to charge back into the room and torture Emerson if she had to for answers. She knew Clarke would approve.

 

“There has to be something.” Lexa paced harder, wiping the sweat from her brow. There was no proof she was still alive. It had to have been a way to get to her and Emerson knew it. He was in league with Titus, mostly because of the coin, but she didn’t know what else to do, or think. She exhausted all possible outcomes in her head. Maybe she did escape the flame. Maybe she wasn’t even there. Maybe it was just a joke. Lexa set her head in her hands, pushing her hair back, blowing out. “Anya, there has to be…”

 

“LEXA!” Anya caught her attention. Lexa stood directly in front of her, bowing her head in shame. She slowly reached into her pocket, drawing out a neatly folded piece of paper with a spiral mark on it. “This was found on your desk.” She gently placed the paper in Lexa’s hands, backing away. Lexa scanned the contents with a single line on the page. 

 

SEEK HIGHER THINGS TOWARD THE EASTERN SEA

 

“What is this?” Lexa studied the content, thumbing the page back and forth for any more contextual clues. She observed the lines more intensely.

 

“I don’t know, but I think it’s from HER.” Lexa glanced up to her partner. Anya shoved her hands back in her pockets, shrugging her shoulders away from the Heda. Lexa’s intensity swelled from the center of her loins.

 

“The Eastern Sea…” She thought for a moment. “That’s where we used to play on the swings when we were young. Where she accidentally drowned our little brother… And where our parents…” Lexa cussed under her breath. It was Luna. There was no doubt, it was her. She crinkled the paper in her quaking hands. “How. Long…”

 

“Lexa…”

 

“How long did you have this?!” Anya refused to respond. Instead, her brow furrowed and her mouth turned grim with her feigned innocence. Lexa’s black blood boiled. “Did you know?” Anya studied the floorboards. She couldn’t lie to Lexa, especially with something revolving the family she had lost. “DID YOU KNOW?!” She snapped like a wounded pup being pulled from a drain pipe. Anya bowed her head in shame. “TELL ME!” She charged at her partner, clutching her by the collar, while shoving her across the two-way plexiglass with a rattling thud.

 

“Yes…” Anya admitted. Lexa slammed a left hook in the center of Anya’s jaw, releasing her partner, realizing what she had done. She stumbled backward. Anya wiggled it back into place, rubbing the sore red. “When we received word from Indra while you were recovering in the hospital. We were going to tell you, but…”

 

“We?!” Her attention raised with her angular eyebrow, enclosing the space between the two, once again. She was unhinged, completely with no sense of rationality. Another person knew and kept it from her. She was out for blood.

 

“Kane and I…” Anya paused, thinking of how to frame her words. Lexa’s deadly glare bore holes deeper than the ocean in who she thought was her best friend and partner. “You didn’t need to know until we truly knew, Heda.”

 

“Didn’t need to know?!” Her alarm raised the hairs on the back of Anya’s arms. “I can’t believe you…” The betrayal cut like a razor’s edge. “How could you not tell me she was still alive?!”

 

“Heda, please. Emerson may be right. We’ve had reports of a woman in the night, cracking down on Trikru and Azgeda.” Anya retorted, defending her actions. Lexa didn’t wish to hear any more. In fact, she was close to decking her once more. 

 

“I’ve heard.” She sharply quipped back. She watched the news regularly while stuck in Arkadia after surviving Titus’s attack. But now, she wished she hadn’t. Her sister was alive all this time, and she gave up looking. She truly thought Luna was dead, otherwise, she would have never stopped searching. Bile crepts in the swimming of her convulsing stomach. Lexa couldn’t breathe. 

 

“It could be Luna. She may be acting as a vigilante to take down the gangs.” Lexa snapped her head sharply toward her partner with a still fury. She was out for blood, and she couldn’t believe her. Anya protruded her jaw to exhale, not sure how to calm the Heda before she really let her have it. “You were close to Titus! She may think you’re in his pocket still. Kane doesn’t trust half the cops in TonDC because they are Jaha’s puppets.”

 

“Emerson is an idiot.” Lexa cut her off, resting her arm under her chest, while supporting her head with her fist. She paced back and forth. “She would never…” Lexa turned toward the hallway, pressing the pad of her boot into the floor, charging toward the outside world.

 

“Don’t try to reach out to her. Please.” Anya caught her by the wrist, jerking her backward. Lexa stepped closer to her, glaring at her from under her brow. 

 

“Anya. I care about you, I do…” Her face softened. Anya relaxed her intense guard. “But, Fuck off!” She spat venom at her partner, snatching her wrist out of Anya’s grasp. She growled rushing out of the area. Anya trailed behind her.

 

“Lexa, where are you going?” Officers stood in the middle of the hallway. Lexa pushed them aside like Moses parting the red seas. They flung backward on their desks, papers flew everywhere. The aura around Lexa’s intensity drove a black cloud around everywhere she touched. Anya followed suit, apologizing to the two as she trained behind. Lexa bursted open the doors to the precinct, climbing atop her bike. She didn’t even bother strap the helmet around her head. She needed the cool air on her face. “Lexa! Get back here!” Anya ordered. Lexa stared Anya dead in the eye, kicking the starter, revving the engine. It roared with a furious thunder. “AT LEAST PUT ON YOUR DAMN HELMET!” Anya cried out over the noise. Lexa rode away, flying down the street from zero to sixty in ten seconds flat. Anya sighed, watching Lexa until the distance obscured. “Well… Fuck.”

 

Clarke

 

The room was still, calm and serene. Small dust piles and bits of rubble lingered around the corners of the room. It wasn’t back to pristine conditions and some areas were still out of service, but it was just enough to use the break area again. Raven was gallivanting around the wing with Wick, fighting about which wiring method would cause the least amount of damage in the event of an earthquake, or another attack. Clarke sighed watching the two go at it, back and forth like an old married couple, sitting at a table in the break area in front of the vending machines with her mother and Nyko. She sipped on some motor oil from the horrid machine, which, sadly, hadn’t been destroyed in the attack. She wished they would just make up and do the deed already. She knew damn well they both wanted to. She focused on the coffee in her fingers. 

 

“Mom, with the budget of the new repairs, can we say our coffee machine broke too? It’s horrid!” Clarke begged her mother. She sat on her white shoe, twirling the paper cup in her hands. Abby shook her head at her daughter, noticing the pounding of boots drew closer to them with a creaking of leather, in a hurried rush. Clarke didn’t notice.

 

“Clarke, that would be unethical. We can’t.” Abby laughed, nervous at the creaking sound, grasping Clarke’s cup with both of her hands. She was still jumpy after watching her only daughter stabbed by some heathen. She owed Octavia for putting him down. Abby drew it to her lip, sipping the contents. Her face contorted as she slowly let it trickle back in Clarke’s cup. “You know what, on second thought.” 

 

“Thanks for that, Mom…” Clarke took the cup back, per her mother’s gift. She peered at the backwash floating around, setting it back down and scooting it towards the edge of the table.

 

“I’m just saving you the trouble of week old coffee with burnt cigarettes in it.” Abby chuckled. Nurses passed by waving at the three. Abby waved them by, resting her leg on her knee. Nyko spread out, tucking his hands behind his head chuckling at the two.

 

“That was oddly specific. How would you know what that tastes like?” Clarke questioned. Abby shrugged. Nyko bellowed a laugh at the Griffins. He didn’t speak much; never offering much of a conversation, but they didn’t mind the company, especially after the attack. Creaking leather and stomping boots rushed closer to the three. Finally, Clarke noticed. She jumped from the residual lingering effects of the attack, triggered by the noise. Lexa stopped directly in front of her. Abby jolted forward, flinging the front of her arm over her daughter, guarding her from any attack. She relaxed when she realized who it was, glaring at Lexa with the full force of an over protective mama bear.

 

“Lexa!” The fear filled tension transmuted into joy, crinkling around her eyes in her tooth-filled smile. Clarke was just about to text her when she was coming by. Lexa was stern, distant, gazing right past her. Clarke’s glee faded into skeptical concern for her love. She cocked her head to the side. “Lexa, is everything okay?” She studied the Heda intensely. Lexa sucked in a deep breath before holding out her long hand. 

 

“Come with me.” Lexa demanded. Clarke scanned the area, landing her restless gaze back on Lexa, then curled her hand into hers, who launched her upward, drawing her close. She refused to look her in the eye. Abby grimaced at the two. Clarke knew her mother would never approve, especially after Lexa left the first time. She never forgave Lexa for her daughter’s disappearance, and didn’t trust her, even after everything that’s happened. Clarke turned her attention to the two, then back at Lexa. Her mom’s expression said it all. She knew they were at it again, and she was out for blood.

 

“O-kay?” Clarke whispered. She mouthed apologies to the two, leaving them as Lexa dragged her behind. They slogged down the hallway until meeting the nurse’s resting quarters. Clarke was confused. Lexa wasn’t acting herself. Something was seriously wrong, but she didn’t want to push her away by pointing out accusations. “Did you want to talk about something, babe?” Clarke questioned. Lexa refused to answer. Clarke’s intense nerves shook at her gut instinct. 

 

Lexa entered the room for a moment, scanning the area; no one was in there. She slightly relaxed her tense shoulders. Clarke wanted to reach out, but Lexa left her lingering at the doorway, keeping her out. She rushed in, closing all of the blinds. Clarke stepped inside, trailing Lexa with an unnerving thoroness. Lexa locked the door from the inside with a click, pulling on Clarke’s arm to move her away. “Um, Lexa?” Clarke sighed with an inquisitive brow. Concerned doubt shrouded her intense core.

 

Lexa curled her rough clasp around Clarke’s hand, dragging her inside, slamming the door behind her while pressing her body in Clarke’s. She eyed her from her lips to her soul. The drunken need brought in the tide with the rolling waves stemming from Clarke's center. She didn’t know how to take it because this was certainly new. Lexa refused to lock her cool mouth against her, but merely hovered. Lexa clashed their bottom lips together, clinging to them, drawing upward. Lexa raised her hands to the side of Clarke’s face, savoring her sin. She feasted upon her pulse, driving Clarke into madness. Lexa backed her against the wood frame, mercilessly licking her upper lip, then searched past her teeth, aggressively grasping her wrist. Clarke fell into her dominance, sucking her kiss in the war Lexa waged. 

 

Lexa softly drew away, lingering her hungry gaze back and forth, leaving unsaid words etched deep in Clarke’s veins: “I need you”. Lexa swept her grasp under the roots of Clarke’s hair, pressing her opposite hand firmly against the door, then slammed Clarke’s head against the back of it to cushion the blow, hungrily trailing her lips on the under of her collar. She retracted that hand, clawing at the upper of her thigh, breathing a heavy sigh. Clarke was enthralled by the passionate urgency. Lexa clawed toward her hips, curling her long fingers around the elastic of her scrubs. 

 

Clarke’s surprise met Lexa’s dominance as she slowly crept her hands inside the rim, leading toward her heat. Lexa sucked in a deep breath while Clarke shuddered. She met her center. Clarke wrapped her talons around Lexa’s shoulders, tugging her jacket around the upper of her biceps, digging into her flesh around the cloth. Lexa trailed her tongue against Clarke’s vein under her ear. Goosebumps pooled to the surface. Clarke choked, grinding her teeth into Lexa’s shoulders. Lexa slipped a finger inside her slilt. Clarke cried out with the rapture of her longing, digging graves in Lexa’s back. Her nails cut like razors, drawing perfect lines of dotting black blood to the surface. Lexa rubbed her frame against Clarke, transfixing on every breath and sigh she could make her whimper in the sweet intoxication. She snapped out of her growing desire, pushing Lexa backward. Lexa stopped, drawing her hand from the center of Clarke’s femininity. 

“Woah, where did this come from?” Clarke often wished Lexa would take control and take her hard, but she didn’t understand the sudden need to do so this early, especially after their last night. Lexa searched Clarke’s sky-blues toward her parted awaiting mouth and back. Clarke needed her. She needed her to return, but she needed answers more. It wasn’t a complaint, just a genuine, concerned curiosity. 

 

“Shof op!” Lexa wrapped her hands in the roots of Clarke’s mane, lightly drawing her head back, exposing the hollow of her neck. She whimpered at Lexa’s forbidden danger. Lexa lingered the rim of her hungry mouth against her pulse, flicking her tongue against every crevice, working her way up to the lobe of her ear. Clarke submitted. Every inch of her body shook like the earth threatening to split in two, surrendering to Lexa’s mercy. 

 

Lexa spun her around, slamming her hands against the wall, holding them for a moment before rushing her sensuous tips up the side of Clarke’s arousal. With one hand, Lexa slowly slid her scrub shirt north, while gliding her other south. Clarke rested her hand on top of Lexa’s, slowly aiding her, bunching her shirt around the under of her excited mounds. Clarke gasped at the light, cool lip pressed under her ear, her face in a flush. She craned her neck toward Lexa’s awaiting mouth, flicking her tongue on the tip of Lexa’s lip. Lexa dipped her long finger inside Clarke’s entrance. Clarke inhaled Lexa, squeaking at the plunge, melting in her firm grasp.

“Lexa, wait…” Clarke jerked away, spinning to face Lexa. Lexa reciprocated the command, pulling her hands, respectively away. She demanded Clarke’s lips, devouring her thirsting silver-greens, staggering, her plump mouth parted, ready to charge back in. Clarke searched Lexa’s soul, craving her own exposed form pressed hard against Lexa’s, proving she did want her. “I love you…” It was a half question, half statement. Lexa leaned back in, licking her bottom lip, before drawing it in her mouth, grazing her teeth against it. She released it, then parted, teasing her awaiting mouth, closing in with variations of pressure from hard to soft, then back to hard. Clarke had only felt this kind of kiss once before; when Lexa left them and kissed her good-bye, for what she thought was for good. Clarke balled up her hands, setting them on the sides of Lexa’s shoulders. She grunted at the bruise. Clarke retracted her denial.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She nudged Lexa away, grinding her hips into the Heda. The intoxicating ache wasn’t the issue of her inquiry. Lexa’s mixture of rabid desire and distant soul was. She brushed Lexa’s hair back from around her starry eyes. Worry ascended across her features, brow tightening with sudden apprehension. 

 

“It’s nothing.” Lexa shook her head, seeking her maddening passion, breathing life into the doctor. Dew stuck to her long lashes. Clarke fell into her caress, catching her by the tongue. She drank her in deep. Lexa tugged her jacket from around her forearms, plopping it on the floor, refusing to part from her bite. She gasped for breath, rubbing her chin against Clarke’s in a deep crippling sigh, dipping low. They collided once more. Lexa was careful to trail her hands up Clarke’s aroused mounds, while Clarke arched her back into Lexa’s chest. Clarke noted the droplets streaming down her high cheekbones. She trailed away once more. 

 

“Lexa!” She scolded, wiping the wet creeping from Lexa’s eye with the pad of her thumb. “Come on, I’m not stupid. What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing.” Lexa lunged back in, rushing her long fingers against the scar tissue of her side. She shuddered at the feel of it, then rushed her hands further north. Clarke cocked her head to the side, refusing to give in once again, even when she desperately wanted to. Lexa let out a sobbing shutter, resting her glance away. Clarke refused her embrace, dragging her roaming grasp from her body.

“Please…” Lexa lingered her lips under Clarke’s ear, holding her thumbs at the side of her face. Clarke trailed them down in front of her, denying her embrace. Lexa rested her forehead against Clarke’s. “Please...” Clarke backed away, pressing her loving lip against her forehead, standing upon the tips of her toes. She searched the waves of her silver-greens before the storm. They stared at one another; earth meeting sky. “Clarke… Don’t ask me. I just need you.”

 

Clarke met her hot, awaiting mouth, shoving the tip of her tongue between Lexa’s teeth. She curled her searching reach around the Heda’s neck, drinking her in. Lexa leaned away from the girl, reaching for her forearm, drawing the tips against Clarke in her intense devotion. Her all consuming commanding visage bore deep into her skull. She leaned in, softly lingering her sin on the brim of Clarke’s intoxication.

 

Clarke savored her slow worship, building into firmer pressures. Lexa slowly lifted the long sleeved shirt, refusing to break contact with the woman she adored. Her long, dark hair draped around her mounds. She pushed her bangs back with her forefinger and thumb. It was a futile attempt. Stray strands flowed around her halo. Clarke was caught in a rosing dust across her cheeks. Her chest fell heavy inside her ribcage. Lexa’s persistent tease coaxed Wanheda to push her across the room toward the coarse, cotton sheets on one of the beds. She fell back on the them, quaking in anticipation. Clarke straddled her hips, grinding her pelvis in Lexa’s jeans. The pressure from the barrier of the cloth sent Lexa out of her head, needing her skin on her sin. She sat upright. 

 

Lexa grabbed at the rim of her scrubs, tugging it over her head, then slid a finger under the laces, unclasping it from around her torso, trailing her trembling mouth on Clarke’s bare shoulder. Her deep breaths revealed her growing excitement, pushing her core against Clarke’s. Clarke needed her skin against hers just as much as Lexa. She craved the siren’s call, pumping her veins full of life. Their hearts beat faster, synchronizing. Lexa dragged Clarke back on top of her, thumbing the rim of her elastic, blue scrubs. She kicked off her sneakers in the process, while Lexa curled the cloth around her thighs. 

 

“L-Lexa!” Clarke whimpered, shivering as the sudden rush of cool air met her hipbones. They rotated into the Heda’s, whose mouth gaped, sucking in sharp bursts of oxygen. She met her thirst, drinking her in once more, biting her bottom lip. She let it clap with the sudden release. She let her tears fall, winding deep in Clarke’s mane. Clarke unclasped her button and teeth of her jeans, lowering herself inside the mouth of her arousal. Lexa gasped. She mercilessly lapped her addictive lips on the hollow of Clarke’s outstretched neck. Her dark jeans shuffled within the grinding force of Clarke’s worship. 

 

Clarke filled her slit, extending her reach deep within. The shock kicked the air out of Lexa’s lungs. She devoured her beauty while she bit her lower lip, coaxing Wanheda to continue. Lexa’s spine arched, pushing off the sheets into Clarke’s mercy. She could hear the smile in her soft sigh. An immobilizing screech threatened to tremble from her quivering lip. Clarke denied her outcry with the side of her palm, sliding it between her teeth. Lexa bit down, dripping her exploding juices down her quaking thighs, soaking her thong. She huffed, releasing her clamp on the doctor’s hand. Clarke withdrew it from her mouth, curling her body overtop of Lexa’s, holding her other hand south, massaging her entrance. 

 

Lexa flipped her over, her caress still where Lexa wanted it. She removed her jeans from around her thighs. Clarke observed, hungry for her next move in their intricate game of chess. Lexa’s starry eyes climbed Clarke’s figure, meeting her lip, lightly tracing the cool hover on the inside of her wrist, cascading passionate ecstasy toward her quaking thighs. Lexa flicked a finger inside, massaging her.

 

“FUCK!” Clarke groaned, a little louder than she wanted. Lexa pushed the full weight of her body overtop Clarke’s. She flicked her finger. Clarke curled her talons around Lexa’s shoulders, clawing away at her flesh. Little red and black dots spilled to the surface, tearing away at the soft flesh, cutting her with razors at the end of her nimble fingers. Her love gushed with the forbidden danger, submitting completely. The back of her shoulders took flight off the course sheets. She slammed back down, rubbing a burn into the middle of her shoulderblades. Lexa flicked her wicked grasp deeper, while rubbing the pad of her thumb upon the outside of her slit. 

 

“Fuck, LEXA!” The outburst increased in influxation. Clarke needed to consume her whole in the deliverance of her feral desire. She convulsed deeper into the Heda’s frame, unable to take much more, huffing with each breath. She couldn’t hold on much longer. Lexa’s searching mouth met hers, lightly tracing her breath against the intoxication from the salt building from the beads of sweat on Clarke’s skin. She dribbled, gushing around Lexa’s massaging fingers. Clarke flipped the Heda over on her back, meeting Lexa’s surprised stare.

 

In Lexa’s irises, she witnessed complete warmth, desire, and fear all at the same time. The birth and death of the universe and all of its vastness ran from the Earth to the Sky. Clarke covered them with light fingers. “I love you too.” She leaned in, brushing her lip against the Heda’s, but immediately stopped. The hot beads of rain dripped around Lexa’s temples, trailing toward the itchy pillowcase. She kept her fingers overtop of the Heda’s eyes, allowing her to let go.

 

“It’s okay to fall apart sometimes. You’ve been through too much.” She wrapped her arms around Lexa, restricting her from sitting up. She pressed her full weight on top of her, noting her heart beat deep within Lexa’s panting chest. The Heda gave up. She attempted to shove Wanheda off of her, but Clarke only held on tighter. She shoved harder with the balls of her hands, shuddering with a quivering sob. 

 

“Let me go!” Lexa barked like a wounded pup with a hurt paw. “I need to go.”

 

“No. I’m not letting go.” Clarke held on tighter against the thrashing. She knew Lexa didn’t want to hurt her, and she knew that Lexa could overpower her, but she held on as tight as she possibly could.

 

“Just, let me go, Clarke!” Lexa convulsed against her, attempting to free herself from the naked woman. They were completely exposed, not only to the world, but to their own hearts, to the sweet serenity of reckless vulnerability. She was free to just be. Clarke truly saw her as she was; not Heda, not Detective Woods, rather a fragile creature who never asked to be thrust into greatness, or even born. 

 

“No, Lexa.” Clarke refused to let her go, no matter how much Lexa’s boney fingers dug into her or the pressure of her attempted escape killed her fragile soul. Lexa was hurting and she was going to fix it, somehow. She couldn’t stand watching such a strong wildfire simmer to barely even a spark of flame. She wasn’t going to let her go, ever. Clarke cradled the broken Heda, who curled her tight face into her chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“I-I…”

 

“Shh.” She kissed the top of Lexa’s head, breathing in her intoxicating fragrance. Every inch of the Heda drove her wild, from her smouldering stoicism, to the brush of her hair against her face, to the way she walked and talked. Clarke was consumed by her, body and soul. “Something’s happened and you’ll tell me when you’re ready.” She rocked her back and forth. “You’ll tell me.” Lexa wiggled her way out of Clarke’s loving arms, sitting upright. Clarke followed suit, resting on her hands and knees. She stared at her, wide eyed, slowly dying to reach out and touch her. She left her alone, giving Lexa a chance to come back to her when she was ready. She wanted to push back and collapse on top of her, pressing her entire frame into the Heda once more. Lexa was torn from her, and that need to fuse together like salt in water consumed her; yet, Clarke denied her primal desire. She didn’t want to scare her off.

 

“I-I…” Lexa wiped her face with the back of her palm. She sucked in a deep breath, then lifted Clarke’s palm to her heart. Clarke pressed her mouth tight, fighting the urge to climb back aboard Lexa’s escence. The vibrations of the speeding booms in Lexa’s chest filled her with an all consuming dread. She knew what was coming, but she wasn’t going to give up without a fight. She’s been here before and she knew Lexa was leaving. “I want to tell you something.” Clarke braced herself. “I never should have abandoned you.” Lexa brought Clarke’s hand to her lip, then kissed her palm, lingering the traces of her caress against her mouth. She slid it to her cheek. Clarke allowed Lexa’s guidance in the desperate desire to remember each crevice of her. “You’re my beautiful disaster, and you’ve never once given up on me…” Clarke believed it was better if she wasn’t touching her, even though every millimeter of her craved her to never stop. Lexa grabbed at her fingers, curling hers around. “Please, don’t go.” Clarke’s tight face relaxed, her heart sank deep in her chest, blood running cold. “I don’t want you to leave.”

 

“I’d never give up on you. You know that.” She sat back down next to the Heda, resting her head against Lexa’s shoulder. She wasn’t so sure of anything anymore, especially with Lexa’s mixed messages.

 

“Do I?” Lexa sucked in a deep breath, pressing her lips into the side of Clarke’s mop, lingering her embrace on the doctor. She breathed out of her nose, suppressing a sob, threating to choke her. “Everyone I ever love leaves me, and I don’t want you to be another one of them.”

 

“What?” Clarke couldn’t believe it. She jolted forward, spinning on her knee to face Lexa. Her arousal advanced across her arms. “You…You just said.”

 

“You know what I mean.” Lexa sighed, unblinking. 

 

“No, I don’t. You’re speaking in riddles.” Clarke studied her, intensly. She knew what she heard, but she needed to hear all of it. She knew how Lexa felt about saying it, but she needed it, craved it deep in her bones, like tiny fractures chipping away with the grind, breaking her chest open and laying her bleeding heart bare for the world to see. She lusted after those three words with every breath she sucked into her lungs, but she would never force Lexa to say them. Clarke stroked Lexa’s hair back from her long, starry-eyed face. Lexa searched the depths of Clarke’s soul.

 

“I-I love you.” She refused to look away from Clarke. Clarke couldn’t have possibly heard her right. She KNEW what she heard, but she couldn’t believe it. She had never once said those three words before; never before their split and certainly not afterword. “I’ve always loved you.” Lexa inched closer. Clarke’s quaking fingers flooded to her mouth, tears filled her sky-blues. “I’ll always love you.” Lexa crept even closer, pressing her lip to Clarke’s solemn eyes. “I love you.” Those three significant words, Lexa vowed never to say. She believed they were a death sentence; but for who, she did not know. They solidified in her the promise that she wasn’t ever going to leave again, and the only thing that would take her is death itself.

 

“Lexa…”

 

“I love you, Clarke Griffin.” Clarke folded into her arms. Lexa reached as she fell. They had nothing left to lose and Clarke sobbed into Lexa’s neck, slowly grinding into her gravity. She pressed her entire being into Lexa, toppling her over. She couldn’t suppress the desire any further. Lexa set them back upright, then offered up her soul on the altar for Clarke’s pleasure, allowing her, truly, for the first time, to witness all of her as she was: this vulnerable, flightless bird, thrust into power when she really wanted to crumble into herself to escape the waking world she never asked to lead, or even be a part of. Clarke had died a million times within a million stars just to hear what she longed for the most. Lexa echoed those words in her heart with every breath she caressed on her barren skin and the way she’d look at her like she was her everything. Even Lexa couldn’t believe that, at long last, she had finally told the truth, complete and raw. A weight had been lifted, and she shoved Clarke into the bed, brushing herself overtop. “I need you, Wanheda.”

 

“Say it again.” Clarke swallowed the lump in her throat. She needed to be sure it wasn’t a dream. “Three words, eight letters, say them and I’m yours.” Clarke’s chest fell heavy and her sight grew dim. She studied the woman overtop of her, unbelieving what she had heard. 

 

“You belong to me.” Lexa kissed her hand, knocking the air from Clarke’s lungs. “I command your heart.” She walked her fingers from her navel, pausing at the center between her chest. Electric pulses consumed Clarke whole, lunging her grinding hips into Lexa’s. “I.” Lexa whisped her lips on the hollow of Clarke’s stretched neck. Clarke bit her bottom lip. “Love.” She consumed her sin, leaving small traces of love bites under her chin. “You.” 

 

An Hour Later

 

“Hey.” Clarke curled her fingers in Lexa’s, resting her head on her shoulder. She craned her neck upward, studying her long face. Lexa held her arm behind her head, propping them up on the bed. She studied the popcorn ceiling tile, searching for patterns to associate different shapes with, taking her mind off of the looming fact that her sister was still alive. 

 

“Hi…” Lexa bowed her head down, meeting Clarke’s searching lip. She curled around her, lingering her soft love on the breath of the commander of death. Clarke lit up, noting the melancholy in Lexa’s kiss. She wondered what was going on in her head, sticking her forefinger on Lexa’s lip. She bit the tip. 

 

“Did that make you feel better?” Clarke curled into her, studying their hands intertwined like the weavings of a basket. She loved the way they danced within one another, making love together in the simple stimulation of their touch. She set her ear against the Heda’s chest, noting the small lub-dubs speeding up when she brought Lexa’s palm to her lips.

 

“Only a little.” Lexa honestly nodded, pressing her mouth on Clarke’s forehead. She smiled. Clarke lifted her face from Lexa’s chest to stare at her earth. “You’re always a welcome distraction, Hodnes.”

 

“Hodnes? What does that mean?” Clarke inquiry striked an apologetic twinge from Lexa. She sometimes completely forgot all about the language barriers. 

 

“My love.” She whispered her breath on Clarke’s ear. Clarke turned to wrap her arms around Lexa’s trunk, rubbing her face between her chest, resting her ear against Lexa’s heart. She needed to hear it beating. It could all still be a delusion, she thought. The light thudding in her ear said otherwise. Clarke twirled her finger around the bullet hole in Lexa’s stomach. It was concave and darker than the rest of her. Lexa smiled in the top of her hair, breathing in her aroma. She let Wanheda consume her like pure heroine injected, coursing through her veins. Now, she was epinephrine, pumping her full of adrenaline and bringing her back to life. Lexa’s chest sunk deep into her stomach with each sharp breath.

 

“You ready to talk about it?” Clarke glanced back up at the Heda, beaming her brilliance back and forth within Lexa’s green seas before the storm. 

 

“Can we talk about something else?”

 

“We don’t have to talk at all.” Clarke raised a brow, enticing the Heda to return. She needed her more than she ever needed anyone. Lexa rolled Clarke over, clasping her wrists at the side of her head, leaning her weight into Clarke’s grinding hips. The primal desire to devour her consumed her, body and soul. Lexa lingered on her breath a little longer, before colliding once again. They were interrupted by a few knocks on the door, stifling their attempt for round two. 

 

“Clarke?” Abby called out, silhouetting the door. She jiggled the handle, noticing the lock. She drew her master key ring, attempting to find the right one to unlock the door. Clarke set a finger on Lexa’s lips, hushing her. 

 

“Important police questioning, Mom! It shouldn’t take too much longer.” Clarke bellowed, covering Lexa’s mouth from its search on her temple and cheek. She flicked her tongue wildly against her palm. Clarke withdrew it, smacking her lightly in the center of her chest.

 

“A-alright..” Abby stuttered, dropping her keys back on her belt. “Just make sure you’re back to finish your rounds. Your break was over an hour ago.” She cried through the barricade.

 

“I know, but it’s important about the attack on Arkadia.” She fibbed fast, making sure it was specific enough so that her mother would believe it. Lexa didn’t let up her attack on Clarke’s denial of their interruption. She grasped her by the head, caressing her temple down to the line of her jaw with her sin. Clarke let out an uncontrollable, soft moan.

 

“Oh, okay. Well, when you’re done, make sure to finish up and stock up. Your shift is nearly over.”

 

“Thanks, Mom!” Abby stormed away. Lexa finally let up. “You’re deplorable!” She pushed Lexa backward, catching her by the mouth in the process. Lexa stopped suddenly, backing away from Clarke as best as she could, not able to escape the war in her mind. Her unrest stifled the doctor.

 

“Hey, Heda. What’s bothering you?” She brushed Lexa’s hair back from around her long face. Lexa breathed a heavy, crippling sigh. It was about time she finally told her. She couldn’t keep anything secret from Clarke; not anymore. She had to trust that Clarke had her best interests at heart and to rely on someone other than herself. 

“She’s alive, Clarke…” Clarke cocked her head to the side. She didn’t know who was alive, and why it was so significant. For a moment, she thought Costia, but that couldn’t be true. She was beheaded. Clarke couldn’t get a read on Lexa. “Luna.”

 

“Your sister?” She cocked a brow in surprise. Lexa rarely talked about her sister. All she said was that she lost her biological parents in a car accident and that her sister wasn’t watching her little brother in the pool and he drowned at their favorite park. Lexa always blamed her for it, and looked to Aden as a stand-in, although no one could replace her biological brother. Clarke’s alarm rang out on every channel of Lexa’s SOS.

 

“Yes…”

 

“Oh my god!” Clarke rose from overtop of her, sitting on her hands and knees. Lexa leaned forward, resting hers on the bends of her legs. Clarke focused on the love of her life. It all made sense now. Lexa’s unresting glare, her suppressed sobs, not even wanting to talk about it. Clarke felt like an ass for trying to make her talk in the first place; just by asking. She knew how hard that was for her. “Are you?”

 

“Going to see her?” Lexa filled in the gaps. “I can’t…”

 

“Why not?” Clarke was intuitive. She knew Lexa had to have a damn good reason not to follow after family. Her people were the most important treasures in her life, that she would protect, even if it meant taking her. 

 

“I abandoned her! After all this time, Clarke, I just let her go.” Lexa sulked. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. In fact, Lexa regretted even telling Clarke about her sister being alive. She knew she wouldn’t understand why she wasn’t looking for her, even now. She wanted to, but what would she say? She didn’t know what the hell she was going to do once she found her, or even if Luna really was trying to kill her baby sister because of jealousy with being adopted and helping Titus when the Spire fell. She didn’t want anything to do with that bald headed baboon, but Luna sure as hell wouldn’t know that.

 

“You didn’t know! You truly thought she was dead. Give me a better reason why you won’t go see your sister, or at least TRY to find her?!” Clarke snapped at her. She wasn’t about to let her get away with her sulking while she knew seeing her sister was the best thing for her. Maybe then, Lexa could close a chapter in her life that held her back for so long; forgiveness. It wasn’t forgiveness for Luna. It was forgiveness for herself, for her feeling like she gave up when she never did. She would have never stopped fighting, and they both knew that.

 

“Emerson.”

 

“What does he want?” Clarke shot a dirty sneer. She knew of the ex-secret service officer from her step father, while they met with President Wallace on his outings. He was the scum of the earth, not even worth licking the gristle off of Clarke’s soiled shoe.

 

“He’s the guy who shot me with Titus. He has information.” That set Clarke off. She jolted upright, flinging her boyshorts back on, along with her scrubs. She clasped her bra back, bunching up Lexa’s clothes in the process. She tossed them in the Heda’s face, throwing on her shirt with a huff. She headed toward the door. “Where are you going?” Lexa questioned Clarke like she was on trial. She did not want her to go anywhere, not while she was spilling her all to her. She needed Clarke, and Clarke was just leaving like nothing happened. 

 

“Get dressed. Do you have your bike?” So, she did want to still be around her, Lexa thought. She couldn’t contain the question written on her face: What the hell is Clarke doing?! Clarke stopped short, unlacing Lexa’s boots for her, between her knees. Lexa threw the shirt overtop of her neck.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then, finish getting dressed.” Lexa did as she was told. She would only receive orders and follow them to the letter by Wanheda. Anya could go to hell for all that mattered. Clarke, at least, never lied to her. “We’re getting answers, and then we’re gonna kill him.”

 

“Clarke, I can’t.” Lexa paused, rolling up her zipper. Clarke narrowed her eyes into slits, studying the Heda. How could she not want to go out and get answers from the disgraced operative, especially when he had them?

 

“I’ll distract Kane, you go pay him a visit. Anya can’t stop you.” She waved Lexa off. She wasn’t just going to stand there and do nothing, especially while Lexa was hurting and her sister was involved. She was ready to show the world why Lexa calls her the Commander of Death. “Then, I’ll finish him off.” 

 

“That’s not how it works.” Lexa denied her excitement.

 

“You have a right to see your sister!” Clarke was racked with disdain for what she was hearing. Jus drein jus daun was always, always their way. How could the Heda back away from that? Had she tamed her so much that she’d forgive a murderer? Clarke was livid. “We need those answers!” 

 

“I agree with you, but Emerson, Kane and Anya thinks she tried to kill me, and that’s why Titus shot me. To protect me from her.” Lexa tried to reason with her. Clarke was seething red. Lexa knew she just wanted to protect the one she loved at all costs, but this wasn’t the way for answers. She would get them, but just didn’t know how. She came to clear her head, not calm down Clarke from the same information. 

 

“That’s BULLSHIT, and you know it!” Clarke spat venom at the Heda. She turned away from Lexa, unable to look at her. She understood why, but she didn’t want the Heda to see her loathing for the situation. She needed to calm down, but clenched fists and deep breaths weren’t working. 

 

“I don’t know…” Lexa swirled her finger on the top of the table across the room. “It makes sense.” Clarke rested her hands on her hips, stretching her leg outright, steadying herself in the ground. “She wasn’t happy I was adopted and she wasn’t.”

 

“She ran away, like a coward!” Clarke snapped a little harder than she wanted. Lexa jolted back at the force. She didn’t mean to upset her, but she couldn’t keep quiet either. It was the many things Lexa said she loved about her. She quieted her tone. “If she really survived…”  
“She’s that vigilante running around with no regard of the justice system, Clarke.” Clarke shook her head back. She couldn’t believe that someone like that would be a vigilante running around the city attacking Azgeda and Trikru. It made sense, but she still couldn’t fathom that Luna was still alive and out galavanting around like some sort of caped crusader. Lexa clutched Clarke’s hand, setting it on her chest, scooping up her chin with her opposite hand, meeting her inquisitive gaze.“It’s not worth it. I won’t risk you.”

 

“You’re worth it.” Clarke snapped back. Lexa dropped her embrace, shaking her head, pacing around the room. Clarke trailed behind. “Look, we can team up. Get Luna on our side, take down Jaha and end this war!”

 

“That has crossed my mind, more times than you know.” She stopped digging holes into the carpeted floor, scanning the area in searches of finding what she wanted to say next. Clarke rested her palm on the back of Lexa’s collar. “But it’s not that simple.” Lexa spun around to face her love, clutching her hand with hers. She needed Clarke to understand. “Listen to me. We need to do this with tact, okay?” She brushed her strawberry blond locks behind her ear. “If I meet her, I have to take her out. I lost Aden. I can’t lose her too.” She intensely searched Clarke’s sky-blues. “Clarke, my duty outways my needs.”

 

“Your duty is to your people. She’s your people. You deserve answers!”

 

“You’re my people too. I’m not going to set you in harm’s way.” Lexa lingered close to Clarke, reaching in for a kiss, gliding her nose across Clarke’s in a boop. Her silver-greens half closed in her increasing thirst.

 

“That’s not your call to make.” Clarke pulled back away, denying her embrace. Lexa glanced from her hot mouth to her soul with a gasp. She bit her lower lip, containing the beast inside that wanted to ravage the woman in front of her once more. She ran from her problems, and if quieting Clarke by her love worked before, it would certainly work again. She was done talking. She just wanted the last few hours back before she knew, but she didn’t regret telling Clarke she loved her; not even for a second. 

 

“Yes it is. I love you, Clarke.” She swiped her thumbs parallel to Wanheda’s ears. “You’re driven to fix everything for everyone, but you can’t fix this.” Lexa rested her forehead against Clarke’s. “If she kills you, I…”

 

“No, you’re wrong.” Clarke trailed away, removing Lexa’s cradle from her temples. “You are always suffering alone, putting away your needs for someone else’s.” Lexa glanced away. Clarke filled her fingers with Lexa’s long locks. “Your people.” She tangled them for a better grasp, rotating Lexa’s neck to look her in the eye from her stare at the ground. She didn’t even put up a fight. “Me.” Clarke set her forehead against Lexa’s, whose mournful lids lowered toward her feet, once again. “You say that love makes you weak, but it’s your greatest strength.” Lexa’s light flickered, burning deep in the flames of her passion. Clarke’s lip nipped her nose, causing the Heda to faintly smile. “Your weakness is that you care too much, so you go it alone to make sure you don’t inconvenience anyone.” She solidified her grasp around the back of her head. “But you, Lexa, are not alone.” Lexa curled her wrists toward her forearms, lingering around her chest. Clarke pressed the full length of her body against her, while she nuzzled her face into Clarke’s neck, resting the bridge of her nose on Clarke’s vein. “You don’t have to be Heda with me. You don’t have to be Detective Woods, because I see you as you are. It’s okay to feel and fall apart sometimes, and I’ll be right here when you need saving, even from yourself.” Clarke rested her mouth on Lexa’s forehead. “You’re not alone!”

 

A FEW MOMENTS LATER

 

“Feel better?” She pressed her boot off of the wall, unfolding her disapproving arms when Lexa creaked open the door to the Nurse’s lounge. Anya sighed, her mouth pursed into a grimace. She knew exactly where Lexa would go and thought it best that she took some time before heading over to Arkadia. Lexa needed to cool down. Lexa stopped short in front of her partner, her brows knitted into a frown. 

 

“You’re not my keeper.” Lexa waved her off, slamming her shoulder in Anya’s as she pushed past her. Anya pursed her mouth, staring at the ceiling, shaking her disapproving head. She trailed after her, arms wide at the side of her hips. Lexa charged down the rubble filled hallway. Panels in the ceiling exposed wires and insulation.

 

“No, but I’m your partner, and your friend.” She grasped at her hand to turn her to face her, missing her. Lexa spun around, stepping closer, getting in her face. She didn’t want to be challenged, especially by the liar.

 

“Then act like it!” She stormed away from her once more. Clarke crawled out of the room, closing the unlocked latch behind her. She softly trailed behind the charging detectives, staring at the two going back and forth. She wasn’t exactly thrilled that Anya was there after keeping the secret of her sister from her, but she was owed some explanations why. Clarke knew Lexa, knew that she would have charged off without letting Anya at least explain why she kept what she did from her. She knew she had to make Lexa stay.

 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Anya raised her hands, slapping them on her side. Lexa shook her head raising her hand to silence her, but Anya pressed on. “Look, Lexa, I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but…”

 

“No, you can’t.” Lexa cut her off. “You can’t possibly know the realization that your sister, your only blood relative is still alive after giving up on her, thinking she was dead all this time!” Anya stopped dead in her tracks, raising her hands to her shoulders, backing down. Lexa charged forward, curling her claws around Anya’s leather jacket. “You can’t possibly understand what the hell I’m going through, like you’d even care! You kept it from me! YOU!” She dropped her, shaking her head back and forth. “I can’t believe you, Anya.” 

 

“Lexa?” Clarke rested her hand on her shoulder. Lexa craned her neck toward Clarke. She exhaled at her calming grasp.“Hey, it’s alright. Just let her explain. You’re being irrational.”

 

“Irrational?!” Lexa snapped at Clarke. Her swirling rain in her sky met the earth, washing away the marks left behind. Lexa relaxed, apologetically pressing her lips to the top of Clarke’s reach. “You’re probably right.”

 

“I’ve a proposal.” Anya called out. This peaked Lexa’s interest. Clarke patted her, then released her embrace, turning her attention toward Anya. “I’ve contacted Indra. We can use her. Arrest Jaha and Alie, then find Luna.” Clarke liked the sound of this plan, but Lexa wasn’t so sure. “She’d hear that we were the ones who arrested them, when all other cops wouldn’t. That would drive a clear line that we are against Titus and all of his wrongdoings.” Clarke stepped forward, taking charge over Lexa before she could say something to stop the idea. “Then, we find her.”

 

“Go on.” She liked what she was hearing, but Lexa didn’t. Clarke was surprised that Lexa didn’t at least want to know the truth about her sister, or at least try. She glanced Clarke’s way, crossing her disapproving arms, leaning backward, feet firmly planted on the floor.

 

“We will need to go off the books if we are to get Titus, and, if need be, kill him.” Clarke agreed full heartedly. She wanted blood, and this may be the only option they have left. Nothing would ever be resolved if they didn’t act. The longer Jaha was in office, the stronger their forces got, and the more innocent people died. “Kane wouldn’t need to know a damn thing. I’ve played peacemaker for so long, but Luna was my friend too. Blood must have blood. 

 

“Are you wearing a wire?” Lexa reached out toward her partner, flipping her jacket back and forth. She ran her hands along Anya’s side. Anya shook her head when Lexa flipped her around in her half joking patdown. Anya smiled.

“No, Lexa. I’m serious. You’re the Heda and she’s your sister.” Anya faced Lexa once more, nodding to nurses walking past by the three. She quieted her tone, so that she couldn’t be overheard. “It’s your choice.”

 

“I’ll help.” Clarke called out without a second thought. She wasn’t going to leave them running off the record without some sort of medical attention; especially since Lexa had a pretty long track record of getting shot. 

 

“Clarke, I can’t ask you to do this.” Lexa’s brow raised, her eyes widening, craning her neck toward Wanheda. She didn’t want her to come at all. She needed her home and safe, because, at least then, she knew she would have a hundred percent chance of surviving this gang war while she and Anya ended it. 

 

“You’re not.” Clarke quipped back at her. She wasn’t about to let her off the hook that easy. “Where you go, I go.” Lexa pursed her mouth, not liking what she was hearing. Clarke was firm, authoritative. She rushed her hands on the side of her upper arms. “I’m not losing you. Besides, you may need some medical attention.” Anya nodded in agreeance. “You have a tendency of flying into the fray.”

 

“Hodnes…” Lexa attempted to reason with the stubborn blonde. 

 

“No, you’re not facing her alone.” She firmed her caress on the sides of her arms. Anya licked her lips. “Raven and Octavia are already in. They want to take down this damn war more than anyone. Lincoln is too. Wherever Octavia goes, he follows. Bellamy, I don’t know, but Murphy is too.”

 

“That rat?” Lexa scoffed, half laughing. She couldn’t picture John Murphy doing anything selfless for another person. His needs met his own desires, and if it did not directly affect him, he did not want anything to do with it. He wouldn’t even lift a finger to help. 

 

“For Emori.” Now it all made sense. She wouldn’t have believed it otherwise. “She’s with Luna.”

 

“You already know where she is?” Lexa’s face flushed, her brow raising with the sudden shock. “You didn’t even know that Luna was alive! How did you…?!”

 

“I knew she was with a vigilante, but I didn’t know that the vigilante was Luna.” Lexa relaxed her suspicion. It all was starting to make sense. “Murphy even talked about it this morning…” Lexa had forgotten Murphy’s little comment about knowing the merry band of runaway delinquants earlier. Anya half smiled at her partner. 

 

“See, you’re not alone, Heda.” She clapped her on her back. She grunted from the cut marks of Clarke’s nails carving into her a few moments ago. She pursed her mouth, coughing to mask the annoying sting. Clarke’s eyes widened, quickly filling the void with her voice before Anya had a moment to ask what happened this time.

 

“And, I’m not leaving your side.” Clarke curled her fingers in Lexa’s, weaving them together. It was the perfect position, making sure she couldn’t leave. Lexa sighed. There was no fighting with the doctor. She always had a knack of being handed whatever she wanted because Clarke never took no for an answer. 

 

“Okay.” Lexa reluctantly agreed to both Clarke’s persistence and Anya’s plan. She didn’t like that it would probably get them all killed, but the war had to end. Her people blead while Trikru and Azgeda destroyed their home. She wasn’t about to let it continue. She had to do something, and Anya’s was the best plan. “But, you’re sticking close to me.” Lexa squeezed Clarke’s hand tighter. 

 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Clarke brushed her lips upon the Heda’s cheek, standing on the tips of her toes. She pulled her arm down in the process. Anya rolled her eyes. 

 

“Come on. We’ve got to rally the forces, and draw the warrant for Jaha and Alie’s arrest.” Anya lead them both down the hall toward the exit sign.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!!Trigger Warning!!!
> 
> Jaha is finally having paperwork drawn for his arrest. 
> 
> Luna is alive!
> 
> What does this mean for our Hedas?
> 
> Find out more in the continuation of Only You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I just wanted you to know, chapters will be posted every three days to a week and a half now due to extraneous forces of the University coming to finals! 
> 
> That being said, the chapters are also getting longer, so it's pretty much two chapters in one!  
> You forgive me right? 0_0' 
> 
> Anyway, this could be a trigger warning for some people, but Enjoy! 
> 
> Fun Fact: This Fic is longer than the first two Harry Potter novels. Woah!!!

Chapter 13  
Clarke and Lexa

 

The rain trickled around them, lightly dusting the three women on the street. Lexa wore Clarke’s father’s watch, with her rolled up, three quarter sleeved, blue-grey button down wrapped around her frame. Her white belt holstered her badge, while her pistol strapped directly on the jeans of her thigh. She held her cuffs in the back of her small utility belt. Her black tie flicked around wildly with the wind. Clarke’s cheeks bloomed in a rosing blush while her love screamed danger. She was never more attracted to her than when she was on a mission. 

 

Clarke wore Lexa’s leather jacket draped around her shoulders with a long sleeved, low cut cotton, navy blue shirt hung close to her sides. Anya was dressed similarly to Clarke, however, her shirt wasn’t as low. She was more practical than anything. Her hair laced around her shoulder in a braid. Busy cars and crowds buzzed around the streets of the House of Senate. Busy boots stepped up the cold marble while television crews swarmed around the cold, damp area, charging toward Senator Thelonious Jaha and his wife Alie. He slowly waved them by, refusing to answer any questions. The buzzing excitement whizzed around the vast space. 

 

Clarke lifted her hand, signaling Lexa and Anya to stay behind her. She personally knew the man, growing up with their families as friends and dating his son up until he died. Wells wasn’t anything like his father. He was stern, collected, and levelheaded. He fought for people and would strike down any tyrannical oppression, often tying himself to trees as a member of the Peace Corp. He was a real boy scout, and would be more than disgusted at his father’s recent actions. 

 

Clarke charged forward, fighting her way through the intense crowds, asking several questions to the newly elected Senator on his plans for the future and his to fight the gang war. They questioned about Luna and her exploits, and he gave the same answers as he did on his speech, after being sworn in. Clarke met up with him as he trailed away.

 

“Senator!” Her familiar voice startled the man. He sharply snapped around, scanning the crowd, taking notice of the blonde. She was taller than he remembered, and he was more grey than she did. 

 

“Clarke!” He reached his hand out toward her, clasping her arm, in greetings. “Its nice to see you again!” He clapped her on the back, drawing her into a side armed hug. She curled her hand around his waist, halfheartedly reciprocating the hospitality. “How are the repairs coming to the hospital?”

 

“We’re managing.” She admitted. Clarke didn’t want to give up any more information that would aid him in any possible way, but she couldn’t exactly lie to him. He was a senator, afterall. “I’m a little surprised to see you remarried after Wells…”

 

“He was a good kid.” Alie cocked her head to the side like a robot. It creeped Clarke out, cringing at the motions. “Do you know him?”

 

“Of course she does!” Jaha set his hands on his hips. “This is the girl Wells always said he was going to marry ever since they were in diapers.” He flashed a toothy grin at Clarke, who pursed her mouth in a small smile. 

 

“Interesting…” Alie made Clarke uncomfortable, offering no glint of personality. She was practically an artificial intelligence in the flesh and blood. “You’re a little - shorter than what I thought.” Cameras flashed around the three, taking notice of a prominent surgeon at Arkadia speaking with the newly appointed Senator. Jaha noticed them, pushing away from Clarke. 

 

“I’d love to stay and catch up, but I have to get going.” He took a step up the slick stair, stretching his arm away from the girl. Clarke remembered his dismissals all too well. Wells would ask his father’s opinion, or help on something that only a father could answer his son, and he would give the same cold, blank waveoff. “Be sure to give your mother and Chief Kane my best and tell them I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to their wedding.” He turned away from the girl, waving her off. Clarke craned her neck behind, nodding at the two detectives, after biding them some time for the camera crews to swarm around. Clarke backed down, allowing them to charge past before Jaha could rush away. 

 

“Do you have some time for us?” Anya called out to the man a few paces behind. She drew her badge from the inside pocket of her jacket, while Lexa flashed her badge on her belt. Jaha stepped back down a step, searching the two with a furrowed brow. His suprise said everything, realizing the was talking to the TonDC detectives who were shot were in his presence. 

 

“Of course not!” He welcomed the camera crews around him. They swam around the group like fish to the flakes dumped on the top of the water, shoving recorders and microphones around them, as the journalists attempted to gain the best shot. Jaha scooted in closer, staring directly at one of the cameras, smiling. He then turned his attention back towards the women. “What can I help you with, detectives?”

 

“Have you seen this man?” Anya was stern, calm and collected, folding out a picture of Emerson. Jaha cocked his brow in surprise, his pupils dilated. Lexa smiled, noting that they had the exact reaction they wanted from him. Jaha pursed his mouth, waving the detectives off, resting his forefinger and thumb on his waist. 

“Can’t say that I have.” He shrugged, beads of sweat pooling to the surface in the chilly morning air. He manically glanced toward his wife, who kept her focus on the detectives, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her stomach, nervously wringing her hands. 

 

“What about accounts of your whereabouts the last few Mondays of the month?” Lexa shifted in the back of her pants, drawing out a notebook. She searched its contents. “We’ve several eye witnesses you were at the ruins of the Polis Spire.” She licked her finger before turning the page. “At least seven different sources of you entering the condemned ruins.” She snapped the notebook, setting it back in her jeans. “You do realize, entering a condemned site is trespassing.”

 

“I didn’t realize I was on trial here!” Jaha shrugged, raising both of his hands out stretched at his navel. Anya folded her arms, resting her arms under her breast. Her leather creaked. Jaha took notice. “I was paying respects to the fallen Nightbloods. None of them survived that night, as you know, but I’m sure more are being born.”

 

“Really?” Lexa pulled a knife from her pocket, flipping it open. Jaha jolted backward. “That’s interesting, especially since…” She cut the palm of her hand, drawing her blood for the world to see, broadcasted live to the entire nation. “Ai Laik Heda.” She raised her hand up by her head, unblinking from Jaha. Clarke snatched it in mid air, wrapping it in fresh gauze, after spraying antiseptic rubbing alcohol on the wound. Lexa didn’t even flinch at the singing sting. 

 

“T-that’s impossible!” Jaha slowly crept backward on the steps. “The Commander died that night! No Nightbloods survived! I was assured!” 

 

“Assured by who exactly?” Anya smirked. Lexa rolled up her sleeve, displaying her intricate swirls and line work, that could only be done by prick and needle on her bicep. 

 

“Anyone could have that tattoo. It doesn't display anything unless you have the sacred symbol with…” Lexa cut him off, facing away from him while collecting her hair. She had a surgical scar down the nape of her neck with the sacred infinity upon it, intercepting at the line with three dots, like a butterfly’s wings on either side of it’s body. 

 

“Is it really that impossible that some may have actually survived?” Anya grinned. Jaha searched his wife. She was collected, unblinking like a robot. Jaha’s panic flooded all over his features. His fists clenched, his cold sweat dripping down his chin, collecting in his salt and pepper soul patch. “We know that the Ruins of the Spire is a distribution factory for the City of Light chips, and it is also a place you tend to frequent.”

 

“You’ve been so keen on the Native Restoration Project to restore the Spire after Azgeda slaughtered my people, but never focusing on actually saving us Natblida.” Lexa chimed in. She was ready. She was ready to go in for the fatal blow on his career, but they just needed a further proad. He needed to flee, the area, or at least attempt to. They were backed by credentials and could take him in, but to paint a clear picture to Luna, who they knew would be watching, they needed him to run. 

“Which leads us to only one solution.” Anya’s grin widened, threatening to split her face at the corners. 

 

“Thelonious…” Alie warned, touching his arm. She was on to the detectives. Alie grabbed at him harder, yanking him from behind. “We need to go. Now.” Lexa went in for it. She was just a little premature, but she knew they would run. She felt it in her bones. 

 

“Senator Thelonious Jaha, you are under arrest for the mass production and distribution of the City of Light drug. You are being charged with aiding and abetting domestic terrorism, drug peddling, illegal trade deals with known terrorists and trespassing on private property.” Lexa dragged out her handcuffs from the back of her utility belt. 

 

“Alie, RUN!” Jaha pushed Lexa out of the way, grabbing onto his wife’s hand, then turned the opposite way. Camera crews witnessed the entire debacle. 

 

“Theo!” Her heel caught on the slick marble steps, snapping. She toppled over toward the ground. Anya pressed herself overtop, strapping cuffs on her. Her arms and head were bruised from the force of the fall. Jaha left her to her own devices, charging a different path, cut off by more angry reporters waiting for the latest scoop. He saw a clearing, pushing off in a furious sprint toward the streets. Clarke threw herself in front of him, blocking his way toward freedom. 

“Not so fast!” Lexa tackled him to the ground like a rugby player slamming down their opponent. He struggled with the Heda, throwing his fists around. It met her jaw. Lexa wrapped her legs around his, spreading them wide on the steps, while kneeing him in his rear end. She grabbed both of his hands, pinning them to the side while her elbow rested on the nape of his neck. One false move and she could easily crack it on the steps. He stopped struggling, glaring up at Clarke with spite-filled loathing. 

 

“You?!” His eyes widened, furious at the sudden betrayal. “After all I’ve done for you and your family?!” Anya hoisted Alie back to her feet after removing her heels so that she could walk without injuring herself further. One broken shoe dangled on the side of the steps. She nodded to her partner, who yanked Jaha to his feet. Clarke stood in front of him, resting her hands on her hips. The camera crews zoomed in closer toward the Hedas. 

 

“You’re the reason Wells is dead.” She spat at the ground, jabbing her finger into Jaha’s chest. Her brows furrowed, hands quaking with forlorn fury. “You had my father killed because he knew your secret! Gave him the prototype of your drug and then sent in an assassin to make it look like an illness…He wasn’t sick! Mom and I both ran his blood!” Jaha clenched his jaw, charging toward Clarke within Lexa’s restraint. She raised her chin toward him. “You’re not getting away with this, Jaha.” Clarke nodded at Detective Woods, who yanked his arms back, before kicking at his knee to push him forward. 

 

“You have the right to remain silent.” She shoved him down the steps, dragging him away from the camera crews. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights I have read to you.” Jaha nodded at the Detective. Alie had just been read her rights by Anya as well. She set her in the back of Octavia’s squad car, who had just pulled up with a screach. Red and blue lights swirled around, vibrantly. She peered out the tinted back window. Lexa opened her own undercover squad car, separating the couple. “With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak with me?”

 

“I hope you rot in hell, Trikru Trash.” Lexa set her hand on the top of his head, helping him inside the vehicle, slamming the door behind him. Several reporters chirped questions, like noisy birds calling in the morning air. 

 

“Let’s get them out of here.” Anya smiled, approving of the victory. There was no doubt in their minds that Luna hadn’t seen that. It was a pretty big bust, exactly on the same day he was inaugurated into the Senate. Clarke puffed her chest with extreme pride, her eyes watery. Lexa lowered her chin in a respectful bow to her favorite doctor. Without her, she doubted there would be such an impact, and he might have gotten away. Clarke was more of a help than she realized. Anya clapped her on the back, thanking her for the assistance for both the media coverage and stopping him before he ran towards a car, where unsuspecting citizens on the road could get hurt. 

 

“Hodnes, wait for me at home.” Lexa tossed Clarke a key to her apartment. Clarke caught it with one hand, pressing it against her chest. “This could take a while.”

 

“Alright.” She grinned ear to ear. “See you there.” Lexa gifted her a smoldering wink. Clarke turned into a giant puddle. She had never been more attracted to Lexa than when she went into full Heda mode. That is what she called her assertive, authoritative, ruthless source of power in law and order. Lexa set inside the passenger’s side, Anya at the wheel. Clarke observed Lexa and Anya drive away, while being swarmed by the media. 

 

“Come on, Clarke. I’ll drop you on her block so the bitch in the back won’t know where she lives.” Octavia pointed her thumb toward the direction the detectives pulled out on. 

 

“Thanks, O. I appreciate it.”

 

Lexa

 

Lexa crawled in her dimly lit apartment, setting her keys down in the bowl by the door. She rubbed the back of her neck with both hands, firmly squeezing and rubbing, reeking of sweat and urine. She sighed a deep, satisfied sigh, shutting her heavy eyes. She stumbled toward the new, white recliner and plopped down. The curl of the seat poofed around the pressure from her resting position. Lexa kicked off her boots with both of her feet, setting her fingertips on her resting eyes, craning her neck to rest on the back of the chair. She just existed, swimming in the thought of what had just happened. After Costia, she finally caught the catalyst toward the end of the war. She hadn’t had to concede the battle this time, and that satisfaction protruded goosebumps across her entire body. Her jaw clenched, tears dripping down the side of her head, collecting in her hair. She’d done it, at last. She at least had some redemption for Costia, even when Roan couldn’t be touched for it. She had redeemed her.

 

“I’m sorry it took so long…” She whispered silently under her breath, noting Clarke shuffle around the kitchen. Lexa let her heavy sigh creep from her lungs. She didn’t expect it, but she felt Costia’s spirit comfortingly pressed against her, her hands curled around her neck. She couldn't hold on. Steady, thick streams flowed from the corners of her silver-greens. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait, but there was this girl, and I know when we meet again, you’d love her.” She clenched her fists, grinding her fangs. “It doesn’t mean I love you any less, or that I never loved you, Costia.” She buried her face in her clenched claw. “I was so sure I wanted to marry you, and I know you’d want me to be happy.” She sighed. “And she does. She makes me so damn happy and I-.” Lexa fell into a deep hysteric mess, her chest fell into her stomach, hyperventilating. She felt the cool air of Costia’s presence linger around her tighter, as if to say she knows and that she loves her; that it’s okay. 

 

“Ai hod yu in.” She silently sobbed into her fist. “Beja, moba. - Please forgive me.-” The lump in her throat dug away at her, growing more sharp by the second, like the dull ache of a knife against the hollow, pressing in deep. She felt Costia’s haunting lips trace upon her cheek as if to tell her she’s forgiven. “But, I did it.” Lexa let her tears fall. “You’re finally, finally free.” She pierced the corners of her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “Reshop, Costia. Lideon. -Goodnight, Costia. Goodbye.-” With that, the wisp of Costia’s grace was gone, faded from her one final time. Lexa relaxed with the looming weight lifted from her. She fulfilled her promise to the first girl she loved, and she knew, truly, it was okay to be all in with Clarke. That, there was nothing left to lose, and that, finally, she could give her, her all. 

 

The pink light in her lids darkened, followed by the prickling tips of hair over her face. A soft, caress pressed against her mouth, upside down, smiling in the process. Searching hands danced around her side, then back around her chin for two more quick pecks. Lexa breathed her in, beaming at her soft humid breath on her taste. She caressed her face, wiping her tears, kissing her temple. Clarke lit up Lexa’s life. She was sanskrit on her skin, cut open and left for the taking. Lexa was finally able to let go, and Clarke was there to save her from herself. Clarke’s lip trailed to the tip of her ear, down to her neck, careful to caress each part of her with grace. She heard everything, Lexa was sure of it.

 

“I knew you’d catch your man.” She whispered at the bottom of her lobe, pressing her lip to it. Clarke filled Lexa’s empty hand with an open bottle of one of her favorite brews, pressing her caress to her forehead once more. Lexa peeked open an eye. “Costia would be proud.” Clarke was wearing only Lexa’s white button down, with one too many undone, a pair of silky black with red lace trim boyshorts and tube socks. Lexa couldn’t contain her blush, sipping on the much needed beer gifted to her. She missed these moments most of all, coming home and Clarke is there with kind gestures and a loving embrace. All sorrow and worry melted like a snowman in the summer sun. She appreciated everything that Clarke had ever done for her, gifting her the chance to relax and just be her. She was always too concerned with saving everyone, that it was nice to know that someone was there to save her. Lexa thanked her, while Clarke rubbed the nape of her neck and shoulders with firm pressures in her thumbs. Lexa fell back into it. 

 

“Yeah, but I smell like death.” Clarke grinned at the small moan that exhaled from Lexa’s mouth, while she kneaded her knots. “He didn’t come quietly on the ride to. Peed all over the seats in protest, then slammed his head in the metal divider, trying to kill himself. He kept going, bang bang, bang.” Lexa rocked forward, demonstrating the motions. “He kept going until it was black and blue and bloody. We had to pull over and restrain him further.” Clarke stopped short, curling around the chair, resting on the armrest. She slid her weight into Lexa’s lap, wrapping her arms around her neck, kicking her legs over the rest. “Guess who had to clean up that horror show?”

 

“Are you hurt?” Clarke pulled at Lexa’s wrapped up hand from her display of power, revealing herself as Heda to the world. Lexa’s mouth conformed into a half smirk, caressing under Clarke’s chin. Clarke curled her fingers around Lexa’s neck, setting her forehead against hers. She gave her a sweet peck, dragging her lips up, rubbing the tip of her nose against each other. 

 

“Just my pride.” Lexa admitted. She had a run for her money, and a pissed off Raven to attend to. Raven refused to clean the car, and made a wager with Lexa that if Jaha calls her a bitch, Lexa would have to clean the blood and piss. Lexa took on the wager, watching him walk away with crossed arms. She knew she had won until Raven called back for him, and he uttered that word. She cleaned out the urine stains, while Raven sat back, watching the Heda get to work. Raven sipped on her Big Gulp in a lawn chair, laughing as she yelled that Lexa had missed a spot.

 

“Just my pride, Ha!” Clarke laughed at her, believing Lexa was joking. Lexa jolted back in her recliner, cocking her head to stare at her.

 

“Mockery is not a product of a strong mind.” She was hurt that Clarke thought it was funny. In some ways, it kind of was, and she understood, but she was not in the mood to be mercilessly made fun of again.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Clarke didn’t want to hurt her, and Lexa knew it. She instantly regretted snapping at her, but the mockery coming from Raven’s mouth had her slightly annoyed, even still. “Here…” Clarke unfastened a few too many buttons, all the way to her navel, dropping the shirt around one of her shoulders. “Let me help make you feel better.” Clarke curled Lexa’s fingers in hers, drawing it near her exposed torso. Clarke came in close, slowly massaging her lips under Lexa’s jawline. 

 

“Clarke… Well… Um…” Clarke jolted upward, swinging her hips in front of Lexa, while backing away. Lexa leaned forward, covering her mouth with both of her hands in a praying motion, forefingers resting on either side of the bridge of her nose. She exhaled in her hands, her blush consuming her entire face. Clarke curled a finger toward her in a come hither motion, cocking her eyebrow. Lexa coughed, lost for all words. 

 

“You said you smell like death. Care to take a shower, or are you going to make me take one by myself?” She bit her bottom lip, curling her fingers around the end of Lexa’s white dress shirt, tugging at the ends. It popped her other shoulder free. Clarke crossed her arms covering her mounds, turning her back toward the Heda. Lexa’s jaw fell to the floor when Clarke craned her head back around, nibbling on her thumb and forefinger, swinging her hips toward Lexa’s room.

 

“We need to…” Lexa gulped. Her breath shortened, panting deep. “Think about…” Her voice cracked. Clarke glanced toward the floor, then back up at her, sharply cocking her brow, then bit her lip. “Our next move with Luna.” Lexa crossed her legs, dancing on the knife's edge. She was as nervous as a grade school child asking out their crush to their first ever dance. Even after all the time that passed, Clarke made her feel like a giddy teenger fauning over their favorite celebrity, scribing in their journal that they WILL marry them, even when that celebrity doesn’t know they exist.

 

“She will come to us when she’s ready.” Clarke growled in a low husk. Lexa’s blush consumed her core. She wanted to hide, unable to handle the barrage of electric pulses Clarke gave with just a breath; just a glance. Clarke came forward in front of her once more, dancing around her reclining chair. She curled her hand around Lexa’s chest, resting hers against the back of the chair. She set her lips right under Lexa’s ear, lightly drawing it in with her teeth. “Right now, all you’ve got to worry about is relaxing.” Clarke noted Lexa’s tremble, while her hair stood on end with each new sensation. “You caught your man. Now, let me take care of you for a change.” Lexa leaned in, close enough to taste her. Clarke hovered her lips overtop of Lexa’s, but never connected. She flicked her wicked tongue on the tip of Lexa’s lip, then sharply drew away before Lexa’s lunge connected. 

 

“C-clarke…” Lexa studied her with piercing desire, watching her walk away toward her room once more. Clarke stopped short, dropping Lexa’s shirt from around her body, leaving it in a pile on the floor. She let Lexa study the dimples in the small of her back, her shoulder blades rotating between the small hump leading to her neck; Lexa’s weakness where she loved to kiss. Her black and red laced boyshorts curled around her voluptuous rear, exposing the bottom of her cheeks. Lexa danced back and forth in her recliner, wringing her hands.

 

“Come on, Heda. Don’t make me beg.” She bit her thumb, granting her a wink before filing into Lexa’s room. Lexa couldn't take it anymore. She jumped out of her chair, beer spilling in the carpet with a glug. She quickly unfastened her belt, ripping it from her pants, then unbuttoned her shirt, leaving it sitting on the ground in a puddle, half sprinting after Clarke. Clarke giggled like a giddy schoolgirl, when Lexa tackled her on top of the bed. Clarke wrapped her legs around her waist, and her claws in Lexa’s back. Lexa pressed her hand against the headboard so they wouldn’t hit it, meeting her lips. “What about that shower?”

 

“In a minute.” She spoke the words against Clarke’s open, electrifying mouth. She couldn’t believe it. The world was right in her grasp. She caught the guy who was the reason why Costia was slain, why Aden was slain, why her entire world collapsed into hell. She thought, maybe it was self sabotage all along as to why she never let herself just relax for a single moment in her life. She didn’t know how to handle the new sensation of not being in control, for waiting instead of acting. Lexa curled her fingers in Clarke’s mane, weaving them throughout the locks. Clarke sighed at the strain. Flashes of her entire life pooled to the surface; standing in front of the burning spire to Anya’s denial while they pulled Aden’s crippled body from the wreckage. She kissed Clarke harder, suppressing her unrest. Clarke conformed around her like putty dripping over an edge. Flashes of coming home to an intruder, drenched in blood, only to find her first love’s head torn clean off of her body, perched right where Clarke’s head rested under her quaking fingers, and her body where Lexa kicked her jeans to. She shook her head fast. 

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Clarke stopped suddenly, pushing her hair back from her starry eyes.

 

“It’s nothing.” Lexa charged back in. Suddenly, a flash of one of the worst days in her life bubbled to the surface. She stood in front of the woman she loved at Mt. Weather Cinema, after a nice outing in the middle of the winter. Mistletoe hung over head, and Clarke kissed her fiance. Lexa peered into those sky-blues she adored, then handed her back her father’s watch, telling her she just couldn’t do it anymore. Before Clarke could ask why, Lexa ran the opposite direction, tears in her eyes. Now, here she was, that same girl falling in time under her thumb, under her skin, under her everything. She had moved mountains just to stumble into her good graces, and here was the embodiment, lying beneath her, arching her surrender into Lexa. She didn’t feel worthy of her. 

 

Another flash of Clarke reaching out to her, dying on the floor of Arkadia hospital danced around the three dimensional imax of her mind. Lexa couldn't take it anymore. She jolted up, away from Clarke, climbing toward the side of the bed, setting her head in her hands, hyperventilating. Clarke sat upright, scooting after her. She set her head on the back of Lexa’s shoulders. 

 

“D-did I do something?” Clarke rocked her chin within the upper of her back. Lexa refused to answer. “Hey, Heda. What’s wrong?” Lexa set her hand against her mouth, sliding it up to her eyes. “Talk to me.” She jolted away from Clarke, charging straight toward the bathroom. She thought she didn’t deserve her; that, she didn’t deserve anyone. It was all too overwhelming. She didn’t expect the flood of emotions she kept locked away to surface so suddenly, like the pressure built in a shaken soda can. Clarke charged after her. Lexa slammed the door in her face, locked the it, pressing her forehead against the oak. She dug her talons in her curled palms setting on the entryway beside her face. Clarke set her ear against the door, feeling the Heda pulse against it with the muffled sniffs from the tears she couldn’t stop, no matter how hard Lexa tried. 

 

“Lexa!” Clarke jiggled the handle. “Lexa! What’s wrong?!” Lexa’s sorrowful grin curled around her lip, clenching her eyes tight. Wrinkles swirled around the crevices. She clapped her hand over her mouth, while raindrops crashed upon the eggshell tile. “Lexa, hey, come on. Open the door.” She jiggled the handle once more, this time a little harder. Lexa couldn’t contain herself. She crumbled in her sorrow, lost in the reverie of broken promise and guilt. Clarke heard her convulsed gasp from the other side of the door. “Baby, please. Open the door. You’re scaring me...” She didn’t know what Lexa was going to do, if she did something to upset her, or even if she would try to harm herself. She never knew this side before, and the unknowing scared her to death. Lexa couldn’t hold onto her, or anyone for that matter. She spun to her back, sliding down the barricade, resting her hands on her knees. She didn’t want Clarke to see her cry and she couldn’t bare look her in the eye and tell her of her hauntings. That, while they are having sex, she’s a million miles away drenched in the blood of those she lost and of those she should soon find, instead of living in the moment of Clarke’s tender love. She didn’t want her to feel that guilt like she pressured her, when she didn’t. Lexa craved her more than anything, but after Jaha’s arrest, it was all too much, and the Heda had never felt such guilt: for leaving, for surviving when everyone she ever loved was taken from her by the cold embrace of death, and almost losing Clarke, the petrifying apprehension of what may come set her over the edge. “Lexa…” Clarke banged on the door herder, tugging at the locked handle. Lexa refused to answer, cupping her hand over her mouth to suppress the growing sobs. Clarke rested her forehead and nose against oak. “Please, just open the door. Baby, you’re scaring me.”

 

“I-I’m sorry.” Lexa set her head between her knees, hands on the back of her neck, pulling down, silently choking into the ground alone and half naked and scared to death. The pressure from her back against the hinges bowed the oak out at the bottom. Clarke banged harder on the opposite side of the door. Lexa’s denial for answers pushed Wanheda over the edge. She didn’t know what else to do.

 

“You’re not leaving me again, Lexa.” She banged harder. “No. This time is for keeps. Oso throu daun ogeda! Do you hear me?!” A waiver rattled in Clarke’s husk. “Do you hear me, Heda?!”

 

“I wasn’t… Clarke…” She sighed, studying the room. She glanced at her hand, contemplating her role in the universe and if being Heda meant she had to sacrifice one more just to save her, or if she was wrong. She gathered what strength she had to stand, and unlocked the handle with an audible click. Clarke let out a heavy gasp. “I’m sorry… I just don’t like it when you see me like this.”

 

“Like what?” She curled her fingers around the shiny, bronze metal, timid of walking inside to see what awaited for her. She didn’t know if it was too late and that she did something stupid, or if Lexa just needed a moment. 

 

“Weak…” The word sobbed off her lip. “A coward, always running from something, unable to take command of the situation, at the mercy of someone else when I’m so damn close to my goal…” Clarke rested her hand against the handle, her head on her arm. The aura of the room screamed out, ‘Proceed with Caution’, and they both knew it. Lexa collected herself. “Needing someone more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my life and terrified of what they’d think of me when they know that they are vital.” She turned her back toward the door, staggering toward the wash basin and mirror. Clarke twisted the knob, almost breaking down the door while rushing in, clutching her hard from behind. She curled herself around her, clinging so tight that she could almost phase through her. Lexa gasped.

 

“Needing someone doesn’t make you weak, Heda.” She buried her face in the line of the first circle on Lexa’s back. “Just look in the mirror. You are the strongest person I know, and you always suffer alone.” When Clarke didn’t think she could hold on any tighter, she proved herself wrong. Lexa curled her long fingers around her arms. Her body fused into her, spooning her back, filling every contour and line with Clarke’s front. “But, you’re not alone.” She squeezed her tight, pinning her arms to her side. “You’re not.” She clawed at her, pressing harder against her. “You’re vital to me too.”

 

“I hate it when you see me cry, Clarke.” She lifted her head toward the ceiling, letting the lights fill her sight with little floating black dots. “I wonder if you’d still want me in the morning when I wake up. If you’d still love me tomorrow after all I’ve done, after the monster I’ve become… How you still could is beyond me.”

 

“Stop thinking like that, you drama queen.” She smiled in her back to assure Lexa she was merely trying to defuse the tension. “You’re not a monster, and I’ve always wanted you. I’ll always want you, Lexa.” She set her head between her shoulderblades. Lexa clenched her silver-greens, thick streams of rain dripping down her long jawline, collecting on Clarke’s hands around her chest. It shocked Wanheda. She never had ever seen Lexa this vulnerable in her entire life. When she thought she had her figured out, Lexa peeled back another layer that she hadn’t the faintest idea about. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, you jump in the shower, I couldn’t tell the difference. Would you like that?” Lexa slowly nodded after a moment of consideration. 

 

Clarke let her go, turning on the water, sliding off her boyshorts and tube socks. She checked the heat of it, sticking half of her arm in the lukewarm rain. Once she was satisfied, she reached her hands out toward Lexa. Lexa clutched hold of it, unable to look her in the eye. Clarke didn’t care she was still partially clothed. She just needed to wash her sins away and lay them to rest. She had never seen Lexa so defeated, so at rest that she achieved one of her goals and didn’t have a damn thing owed to her people. She had never witnessed the Heda have to wait for anything, and the waiting, the uncertainty was the killer. Lexa was never patient, never relaxed. She always needed something to do, so the war in her mind didn’t drive her to madness.

 

Lexa crawled inside, Clarke behind her. She let the fresh rains from the leaking pipes crash over her, soaking her completely. She craved Clarke, but in the most innocent way. She needed to consume her, to just lay next to her. Clarke was naked around her, holding on so tightly, pressing every inch of her against the Heda, but she didn’t want to ravage her like a rabid animal. Clarke was the pulse in Lexa’s veins. She felt this gravitational pull, which stemmed from her bones, circulating around her. She was deep under her skin, and the war in her mind waged in the battlegrounds, colliding in the joust. With just a breath, Clarke could set that to rest. She was everywhere and she was as vital to her survival as sucking oxygen in her collapsed lungs. Lexa laid her head under the water. Clarke held onto her drenched back, fusing her body against Lexa’s tighter.

 

Lexa let it fall, let it all come out, while Clarke curled her fingers under her arms, burying them in her shoulders. Lexa collapsed to the bottom of the shower, Clarke followed suit, resting the broken woman against her front. Clarke caressed the crawl of her neck, stroking her dark locks around to her front. It was the most vulnerable position, relinquishing all power to her. She was screaming inside herself, and having that pressure in her back was healing. She was protected, draped in a blanket of warmness and light. She had almost forgotten what that felt like. 

 

Clarke had a new sensation. She knew Lexa was strong, she knew she was stern and sometimes unfeeling, but this new layer unraveled was the first time she saw her as a fragile being. It terrified her, but she loved her more for it. She had never shared this side of her before, and Clarke knew. She knew everything, truly saw her for who she is, not just said it of what she thought she was: compassionate and unconditionally loving with no bounds or limitations, fiercely loyal even though she had betrayed her trust before, and stronger and more steadfast than any mountain. There is a fine line between passion and madness, and love can set someone over that edge. Everyone expected something from her, and she’d give it to save her people, to protect everyone, even when it sacrificed herself. She wasn’t afraid to die for her cause, but was afraid to leave Clarke. 

 

Clarke grabbed the lufa from around the drain stopper. Lexa curled inside herself, bringing her knees to her chest. Clarke snapped open the bottle of bodywash, pouring it on the spongy substance in her paw. She set it under the droplets, letting it get sudsy, then proceeded to wipe down Lexa’s back. Lexa rolled her neck around at the soft caress, washing away her sins of yesterday. She never let anyone take care of her the way she let Clarke; not even Costia. She gave up the power she held, just to exist with Wanheda. Lexa spun around, peering into the eyes she adored, letting the water wash over her. Clarke’s puffy sky-blues crinkled a smile at her. Lexa held her breath, grabbing her by the side of the face and leaned in, gently. Clarke caught her by the mouth. She pressed her body against hers, curling her face in Clarke’s chest, stretching her fingers around the crook of her neck. Clarke kissed her crown, just letting her warmth and the water crash overtop of them. 

 

“Clarke?” She craned her neck, setting her forefinger on Clarke’s lip. She smiled, staring back. “I’m sorry I worried you.” Clarke drew her knees up, sitting the Heda deeper on her chest. She couldn’t contain the swelling in her loins, radiating pure, irrational, erratic, unconditional love for this girl. She wasn’t Heda. She wasn’t Detective Woods, and Clarke fell more in love with her that moment than she ever had before. She saw her as she was; Lexa. 

 

“It’s alright. I just thought it was something I did.” Lexa perked up, notably hurt by how she made Clarke feel by running from her. She didn’t mean to.

 

“No. You’re perfect.” She let the words roll off her tongue, bowing her head in shame. She never wanted Clarke to see the deepest part of her, at her most vulnerable. She gasped, unable to look Clarke in the eye. “I just got overwhelmed with everything. The demons caught up is all. I’m sorry.” 

 

“Don’t be.” She drew her neck toward Lexa, two fingers lifting her chin. She leaned in to kiss her. “I’m just glad you told me.” Her brows crinkled, deeply leaving trenches in her forehead. “You really scared me.” 

 

“I didn’t mean to.” Lexa lowered her eyelids. The shame crept across her smooth skin, biting her lower lip, solidifying in the lull of the shower. “I love you.” Clarke charged in, drinking her in deeper. She couldn’t contain herself. Lexa just existed in front of her, right in her grasp, and those three words were a trigger. They triggered her to fight and die for her Heda, bringing her back to life when she lost herself. Lexa lunged deep in, resting her hands to the side of her ears, rubbing herself against Clarke. “I want you.”

 

“A-are you sure that’s a good idea?” Clarke’s blush crept around the tips of her ears. 

 

“Stop talking and take me.” Lexa breathed her in. “You’ve already consumed me, Wanheda, so just take me already.” Lexa whispered. Clarke suddenly flipped her over. The small of Lexa’s back suctioned to the shower floor under her mercy. Clarke rolled off her undergarments, flinging them out of the tub with a sopping thud on the tile. She returned to the Heda, gently intertwining herself within Lexa. 

 

Later

 

“You think that sent a clear message to Luna?” Lexa rubbed her ear with the clean towel. She put on one of her black, band t-shirts and red and grey, plaid pajama pants. Clarke crawled out of the bathroom, wringing out her locks, while draped in Lexa’s oversized navy-blue, three quarter sleeved shirt. She smiled at the Heda, who melted at her beam. She didn’t think it possible, but even in her darkest moments, even in the moments when she just couldn’t quite quiet the war waging on in her head, Clarke could silence the demons with just a breath. She lowered her lids, then glanced back up her way, glowing with the beam of adoration.

 

“I’m pretty sure it did.” Clarke rolled on her tube socks once more to keep her feet warm in the cool air. Lexa thought she looked so perfect, messy stringy hair clumped in the matted wet locks. She sighed to herself, lovestruck like a young pup. The knots in her stomach twisted when the light caught her sky-blues. Lexa had no idea that Clarke felt the same. No words could describe the beauty of the woman in front of her. The flow of the light of the setting sun breaching the blinds, dripping upon the flow of her messy, dark mane caused a great shudder through Wanheda. She couldn’t believe at long last, she was hers, completely; that Lexa finally gave her all and let her see her truly for the first damn time. She loved her all the more for it. 

 

“I hope your right.” Lexa shrugged. Clarke stomped toward her, huffing, her face rosing. She rested her tips along Lexa’s long jawline. She curled her fingers around Clarke’s, drawing it to her breath, kissing her palm. Clarke’s face rosed even brighter to a different shade of crimson. “Thank you.” Clarke pressed her mouth into a smile. “For not judging me earlier.”

 

“Never. I love you, Lexa.”

 

BAM!! The door of the apartment slammed open with a battering ram. Charging boots filed into the small complex. Lexa lept into action, charging out of her room, drawing one of her many blades hanging up on her walls. Clarke followed suit, dashing in front of her. Lexa hurled herself over Clarke, raising an arm up to keep her away from the men and women in tightly dressed, black and grey uniforms standing at attention, pistols in hands at the ready. Lexa searched the area, noting all exits were completely closed off. They could, however, escape through the fire escape. She would make sure Clarke went out first and she’d hold them off while she flead. Everything meant nothing if Clarke wasn’t okay. Suddenly, two more guards stood outside of the window leading to the escape. They were completely helpless.

 

Apprehension pulsed throughout her core. Thump-thump, thump-thummp, her heart jostled around her ribcage, booming deep in her eardrums. The pounding boots, the sudden barging in unannounced like some covert military operation, it wreaked of only one person; the person who thought of every meticulous detail before executing as children. Lexa wasn't surprised much hadn't changed. She was brilliant in tactics, while Lexa was not. The frame of a small female with bushy, dark eyebrows and poofy, knotted, almost matted in dreadlock hair stepped through the threshold, cocking her eyebrow.

 

“Hello, strisis-little sister-.” She scanned past Lexa, whose blade was drawn at the ready, hovering her hand over a half naked blonde. The blunt edge rested directly at her forearm, standing at the ready to deflect any attack. Clarke peered over Lexa’s shoulder, casting hr glow on the woman, while scanning the area. She pursed her lips. She wasn't about to be intimidated by half of a unit crawling inside Lexa’s apartment. Lexa narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t believe it was true, after all these years. 

 

“Luna.” Lexa kept her blade out. Clarke darted back and forth from the two. She noticed some family resemblance. They had the same nose, but that was all. She wondered if Lexa’s mother was faithful or if Luna was from a previous encounter. Lexa had never exactly talked about her biological family, and now Clarke wished she had. 

 

Clarke had no doubts that arresting Jaha would work, but she never thought that Luna would be so intimidating. She had a relaxed posture, pushing her hips and stomach outward, while slouching. Under normal circumstances, she would think she was just a lazy bum begging for change on a street corner, but the air around her, her cold dead stare screamed that she could kill someone in less than a second. Clarke stood her ground behind Lexa, covering her back, while she craned her neck toward the gents perched at the fire escape. She wouldn’t let Lexa go at it alone if fighting were involved, but she also remembered the few stories Lexa would tell about her sister. She really didn't need the guard. She merely brought them with her to make her look weak and need an army to fight her battles, when she could really take down a room full of black belt masters in less than thirty seconds. 

 

Luna was taller than Lexa. Both of them had this intimidating presence, this overbearing sternness with a looming aura that could strike fear in the hearts of even the dead. There was no doubt they were siblings, and that she would have probably fallen for Luna as well. Clarke was a sucker for strong females with a jawline for days and compassionate, dazzling eyes, but were strong enough to kill her. Lexa possessed more wisdom than a buddhist monk. That knowledge only frightened her more when Lexa spoke of her sister being the Attila the Hun to her Vlad Tepes. Clarke studied the sisters, playing a meticulous game of chess with just their eyes. 

 

“It’s been a long time.” Luna flashed Lexa a half smile, holding out her arm. Lexa kept her blade at the ready, but clasped it in greetings. Lexa’s cold sweat dripped down her long face. She couldn’t believe it at long last, her blood lived and breathed in front of her. She used to follow her sister everywhere, looking up to her, much like little sisters do, until the drowning of their little brother. She lost all respect for her, when Luna needed her most, but she only offered respect while she needed something. Seeing her well made Lexa sick to her stomach. Why hadn’t she tried to contact her before? Why had she tried to kill her in the first place? Lexa was at a loss, stomping at the thought that she truly believed her dead. Alas, here she was, at long last. “Oh, who’s this?

 

“You leave her alone.” She curled her upper lip to reveal her bite, tensing in a low crouch, threatening to pounce upon her.

 

“I already know.” Luna waved her hand, signaling her men to stand down. They all relaxed their postures, leaning on their hips, folding their arms. They just, generally, got comfortable, pacing the area. Some of them filed out of the apartment altogether. “Clarke.” Clarke blushed at her name being called. Lexa wasn’t as thrilled. “Emori speaks of you.” She held out her extension. 

 

“Nothing bad, I hope.” Clarke pushed past Lexa, setting a reassuring hand on the small of her back. She took Luna’s welcome, clasping her forearm around Luna’s. They had the same ginger touch. There was no doubt, now, that Lexa and her were full blooded siblings. Their mannerisms were the same, the way they held themselves in a low crouch, gazing at someone off the edge of their nose, nervously shaking back and forth. While Lexa stood poised like a soldier, Luna was more relaxed, but they both curled their lip in the same fashion, had the same crinkle in their eye, even spoke the same patterns.

 

“I’m sorry to hear about Costia, little one.” She nodded at Lexa, who swung her stare from the ground next to Clarke’s foot, trailing up her sister’s relaxed stance. If she wanted to attack, she would have by now. “Enough of the pleasantries. You called?” Lexa dashed toward the wall, resting her blade back upon it. She rotated her neck around, cracking it with little pops, then extended her welcome toward the seating. Luna took the chair, while Clarke sauntered toward the couch. Lexa sat down next to her beloved, setting her hands on her knees, sitting in position. Luna relaxed her back into the recliner. “Impressive power play, by the way. Titus must be thrilled.”

 

“I’m trying to draw Titus out of hiding and slay Nia for her crimes.” Lexa admitted, as if Luna didn’t already know by her little stunt earlier in the day. She bit her bottom lip. Her strange pale eyes darted from Heda to Wanheda.  
“Aren’t we all?” Luna gave a mirthless laugh, running her hand through her matted hair around her ear. “I know why you summoned me.” Clarke perked up. “You wish my help to end the war and seek revenge.” Lexa gave a slight nod. “And, why should I oblige you, little one? You are one of the domesticated ones, after all.”

 

“I’m Heda first, a cop second. My duty is and always has been to my people.” Lexa thrust out her chest. She wasn’t about to let preconceived notions of her dictate the outcome of the game. 

 

“Ever the brooding stoic.” Luna curled her wrist, chewing on a cuticle. ”I get your need for vengeance, but I do not trust your kind.” She bounced her legs, nervously thrashing against Lexa’s textbook answer like a good little soldier. “Cops have certain… corruptions around them.” She unfurled her fingers toward the two. Lexa’s violent eyes narrowed on the vigilante.

“Please, Luna, we need you.” The sisters snapped their attention toward Clarke. She slapped her palms down flat on the coffee table in front of them, leaning into her while slowly rising from her seat. She staggered backward, sliding her hands back toward her torso. Lexa drilled holes in her, shaking her head. She thought she made them sound desperate and had nothing to offer. Luna sucked her teeth.

 

“No.”

 

“What do you mean, no?” Clarke crossed her arms.

 

“I will not kill for you, especially while SHE is with the PD.” Luna jabbed her finger toward her sister with unwavering daggers thrown at the blonde. “Why would I expose my back to the scorpion who claims not to sting it?” She cocked her head. She grabbed the arm of the chair, crossing her legs.

 

“We are what we are.” Lexa quipped.

 

“Exactly.” She lowered her extent, drifting her attention around the room. She craned her head backward, noting her guard tense. She nodded. They relaxed once more. 

 

“But, I am Heda and I have a duty to uphold to my people, regardless of the law.” Lexa finished her statement. Luna leveled a glowing look.

 

“Wolf in sheep’s clothing… Or shall I say pig?” She insulted. Clarke got it. She had no love lost for the Police Department of TonDC. She didn’t have to flaunt it. It was obvious, seeing as she is the vigilante the PD hunted every night, instead of cracking down on drug deals killing the innocent in the inner cities. “Interesting…” She pondered over it, rubbing her chin with a firm grasp. “The answer is still no.”

 

“I’m a doctor.” Clarke pleaded before Luna had a chance to stand up. She sat back down in the recliner, crossing her arms, flailing her fingers out for Clarke to continue her desperate attempt to change her mind. “I prefer not to kill anyone, but if it’s to end this war, I’ve my ways to make it look like an accident.” Lexa didn’t like what she was hearing. She wanted Clarke to stop before she got herself into trouble and she’d have to come to the rescue. She didn’t mind being Clarke’s hero, but she had a loud mouth that sometimes, Lexa would just wish she’d shut the hell up. “Luna, it wouldn’t be for us. It’s with us. Or, for that matter, with you for the greater good of our people!”

 

“Would the Heda fall under my command?” Luna drummed her fingers into her bicep. 

 

“Yes.” Lexa snapped her attention toward Wanheda. She actually had some sort of rise from Luna that maybe, just maybe there was some hope for her help after all. It was a longshot contacting her anyway, but they needed her. And, the Heda knew that, despite how much she wanted to tell Clarke to stop talking and let her handle it. She conceded that battle, because Luna always did the opposite of what she wanted, just to spite Lexa. 

“Why would I tarnish your reputation as a doctor, or my strisis as a detective?” Luna mercilessly mocked, but brought up the valid point. Clarke almost had her in check, but she moved one more pawn to save her the trouble of moving her king. 

 

“Because, sometimes the ends justify the means.” Check. Clarke took her pawn, raising more questions in the Coward of the Spire.

 

“You let her fight your battles now?” She crossed her eyes in exasperation, pointing her thumb toward Clarke, while dancing around the matter with Lexa. Luna was stalling, trying to get a read on how they would react, if they would stick to their guns, or if they would eventually give up.

 

“Ai laik Heda. Non na throu daun gon ai.-I’m the commander. No one fights for me.-”

 

“Then act like it!” She snapped. “You’re weak, Lexa. You never let Costia run your arguments, why allow this...child!” She scrutinized Clarke, shaking her head up and down to check her out.

 

“I do not think you understand the circumstances.” Lexa offered a bitter laugh, nodding to Clarke to reveal herself the way that Lexa revealed herself to the world. Luna perked in intrigue. 

 

“Ai laik Wanheda.” Boom! Lexa dropped the metaphorical mic, slamming the ball in Luna’s court. She was so caught off guard, she couldn’t find words, staring dumbfounded from one Heda to the next. 

 

“She speaks our language?” Luna tensed her shoulders. 

 

“Barely.”

 

“Wanheda…” Luna let the words roll off of her tongue like swishing a sample of fine wine. “Interesting…” She rubbed her temple. “Heda and Wanheda, together. Natural born enemies turned allies…. “ She studied the two, the way Clarke pointed her knees toward Lexa, and Lexa’s protective attention, sitting on the edge in front of her. “More than allies by the looks of it…” Clarke longingly glanced toward Lexa, whose intense glare softened into a comforting conformation of Clarke’s attention. “Oh, this is fantastic! You’ve taken Wanheda as a lover!”

 

“You leave her out of this.” Lexa spat through gritted fang.

 

“Relax, little one.” Luna waved her hand, kicking her boots over the armrest of the recliner. She playfully bobbed them up and down, resting her chin on her fist, propped up by her elbow. “I’m not here to harm her.”

 

“I’d be more concerned of her harming you.” Lexa admitted under her breath. Luna caught it.

 

“Is that a threat?” She threw her legs back toward the ground, digging her nails into the armrest while the guards tensed, setting fingers on their weapons, ready for the quickdraw.

 

“No!” Clarke raised her arms in surrender at her chest. She shot Lexa a nasty grimace. “Clearly, you have a history with your sister, but we need you, Luna.” She pleaded to cover Lexa’s heated mistake. Lexa deeply sighed, while Clarke acted like a parent forcing her teenager to apologize to the principal for calling them a “little bitch”. 

 

“The answer is still no.” Luna stood up, folding her arms. She jutted out her hips, swinging them toward the door. Luna raised two fingers, while her people started to file out of the room.

 

“Please!” Clarke shot up. Lexa grabbed her hand before she made a mistake she would have regretted by reaching toward Luna. “Lincoln and Octavia…”

 

“Lincoln?” Luna snapped back around. “You know him?” She enclosed the distance between, lingering close enough to Clarke that she could feel her hot breath on her face. Lexa jolted forward, pressing some distance between the two like a knight protecting her queen, holding her hand.

 

“He’s my roommate and Octavia’s husband.” Clarke held her ground.

 

“So, he did marry after all.”

 

“Look, Lincoln, Octavia, Anya, Raven, hell even Bellamy, there’s no question about Murphy, they all want to help.” She set a hand on Lexa’s shoulder, standing before her. Lexa backed off. “Three marines, four cops and me, one of the best damn surgeons that TonDC has to offer. We can end this war, but we can only do it together.” Luna shoved her hands in her front pockets, swaying back and forth, weighing all options. Clarke offered her a seat. Luna obliged. The Hedas sat back down after her. “You need our resources, we need your army. The resources of our military planning for more effective strategies are better than your guerilla tactics, especially if you fuse those powers. The police we offer would throw off the scent of those still in Jaha’s pocket, and me! I can save your injured.” Luna jolted her neck backward, raising her chin to stare at the two below her brow. Clarke lifted Lexa’s shirt, before she had a chance to swat it away, revealing her gut shot wound. Luna leaned in, studying the hole of the scar tissue. Lexa slapped her hand away, shoving her shirt back down. “I saved Lexa when no one thought it possible, especially at that angle as you can see. It’s all vital organs in that area, and the quickest route to pierce a lung, or even shrapnel spreading to the heart.” Luna’s satisfied grin crept across her long face. “I saved her.” Clarke puffed out her chest, showing no sign of weakness. “We can do this.”

“You deliver a satisfying offer, Clarke.” She leaned back in the recliner, brushing the tips of her fingers together in front of her mouth. “And, you’re willing to fall in line too?”

 

“If the ends justify the means…” Luna liked what she was hearing, although Lexa did not. She would have used different means, like a trial of combat. She loved Clarke all the more for her silver tongue, although, she worried her lack of restraint while using it would lead to her death. “We save our people. All of our people. But, we can’t do it without you.” Luna curled two fingers in a come hither motion, drawing one of her guards toward her. He leaned over, and she whispered something in his ear that Clarke and Lexa couldn’t hear. Clarke stretched her hand out on the couch to fill Lexa’s, while the two silently deliberated. 

 

“Alright.” Luna finally exhaled. “But, with only one condition.” Clarke anchored her stern attention on the woman. “Lexa is with me.”

 

“I counter that.” Luna cocked her head in Clarke’s brevity. Lexa squeezed her fingers in warning. “I’m not leaving her side.”

 

“Alright.” Luna agreed. 

 

“Clarke…”

 

“It is done.” Luna stood fast, extending her reach over the coffee table. Clarke filled her forearm with Luna’s, staring at one another’s soul. Clarke read honesty, and a real desire for peace, while slightly relieved that an agreement could be achieved. “Now, we must delegate a means for attack.”

 

“Is there a safer place to talk?” Lexa glanced around the room as if to say, ‘the walls have eyes’. Luna lit up the way she used to when Lexa and her thought the exact same way: so full of pride and like children with a secret handshake, where the other kids on the playground did not know what the hell was going on, or what any of it meant. 

 

“Exactly what I thought.” She only responded for Clarke’s sake. “Yes, but you aren’t going to like it.” Typical. She was going to blindfold them or something like the superheros she used to pretend to be, dragging them in a nearby cavern and telling Lexa and their little brother that it was the Batcave, and no one knew where it was. Anytime they would try to leave her new secret place, they would always get lost, and Lexa was left to comfort and defend their baby brother, while Luna laughed from the shadows. “Gather your forces. We will be back in three days time.”

 

“What exactly aren’t we going to like?” Clarke begged the question. Lexa hoped it wasn’t like last time, that Luna wouldn’t drag her to a cave like when they lost their brother, finding him in the lake faced down, cold and blue, while their parents lifted his limp, lifeless body from the cold warters.  
“You’ll see.” Lexa narrowed her eyes. She didn’t trust her after everything; after making her think she was dead all of this time, and after their brother. “Three days. That is all.”

 

“Done.” Lexa respectfully raised her hand toward her older sister. Luna clasped it tight, while both pursed their mouths at one another. Clarke darted her attention back and forth, staring at the long lost Woods girls. She didn’t know what to feel. Luna took a deep breath.

“Regardless of what we’ve been through, it was good to see you, strisis.”

 

“Likewise…” Lexa released her arm, setting it toward the side. Luna nodded to her forces, who filed out of the room, while Luna followed suit. “I'm grateful you’re on the right side this time.” Lexa nodded toward her sister. Luna granted her a half smile, which fell as fast as it appeared. 

 

“Clarke.” She bowed her head, chin to chest, then left the women alone. Lexa craned her neck upward, breathing out an exasperated sigh, filing toward the broken door. She crouched down, studying the hinges, lingering her tips overtop of the splinters in the frame. She needed to call Raven. She’d fix it for a couple brews, and could tell her the plan at the same time. 

 

“You sure we can trust her?” Clarke crossed her arms and feet, leaning her head and shoulder against the wall. Lexa stood back upright, pulling Clarke’s mits from her guarded stance. 

 

“I don’t, but we need her. I’m not a fool.” She intertwined their fingers at her side, brushing her lips against Clarke’s forehead. She was relieved that Luna hadn’t attacked them… Yet.

 

“I hope I didn’t just kill us all.” Clarke pressed her mouth, setting her ear against Lexa’s chest. Lexa kissed her temple, studying the splintering wood. She would need to reinforce the hinges and the wood with some steal. It wouldn’t be as easy to knock the damn door down with a battering ram. She just wasn’t home enough since Costia’s murder to see what security precautions she needed to take, often sleeping in her car or in the resting quarters at the precinct, or even at her desk. She lived for the job, and going back home only reminded her of her losses. She just hoped Clarke wasn’t going to be another one. 

 

“I hope you’re right.” Clarke glanced at Lexa, earth meeting sky. “I hope you’re right.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna is back and the gang is on a warpath to end the war! 
> 
> What will this mean for our Hedas?
> 
> Find out More in Only You!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to FlouKru.

Chapter 14

 

They didn’t say a word. They didn’t have to. Two figures lingered out of the doorway toward Lexa’s apartment. They just sighed, shaking her heads at the woman sitting on the couch, fingers to her lips in a praying motion, while a blonde sat on the armrest, holding her caress on the middle of her back. She stared at the defeated woman, rubbing her with her thumb, draped in a long blue-grey, three quarter sleeved button down and tube socks. She crossed her legs. One of the people at the door furiously blushed, still sore from the rejection of the angel sitting above her demon. Raven knocked on the outside door with the handle of her hammer, a tool belt strapped to her waist. Bellamy carried a box of odds and ends in one hand, thick pieces of plywood in the other. Lexa lowered her head in her hands, rubbing her hair back, then stood up. Clarke’s lingering tips trailed after her. 

 

“Seriously, Lexa. You need to stop pissing people off.” Raven squatted in front of the frayed hinge, trailing her fingers up and down the side of it. She sunk her nails into the split ends of the wood, flicking it back and forth, intensely studying the area. Lexa sauntered toward the mechanic and her assistant of the day.

 

“But, that’s Heda’s speciality.” Bellamy folded his arms over his chest, spreading out his legs, rocking back and forth. “Piss people off until they love her.” He nudged Lexa with his shoulder. She dramatically rolled her eyes, widening her mouth to stick out her flat tongue, then nudged him back with a cheesy grin. Clarke damn near had a heart attack watching them. 

 

“Glad to see you two aren’t at each other’s throats anymore. Are you really cool or just acting for me?” She questioned the sudden change in their cat and mouse game. Bellamy was Tom, always chasing after his goal and never achieving it; Lexa Jerry, mercilessly taunting the guy, but they would die for each other if they had to. 

 

“Still hate you chose the spoiled royal pain in my ass, but yeah. We’re cool.” He slapped a hand on her still sore back. Lexa jolted at the pressure on the half healed bruise, coughing to mask the sting. He wrapped an arm around her, drawing her head in, kissing the side of her temple. 

 

“I’m just glad to see it! Never thought it would have happened again.”

 

“Aww, look at the cute little bros, broing it out, shlanging their dicks around in hopes to capture the mate! And look! The mate is melting!” Raven mercilessly mocked. She yanked a screwdriver out of her utility belt, unfastening the screws still stuck in the side of the torn wall, before she could assess any further damages. “Bellamy, just admit you want a threesome already and get it over with.”

 

“RAVEN!” Bellamy boomed.

 

“What the fuck?!” Lexa backed away from the man, raising her hands in horror. She knew she shouldn’t be so shocked as to what Raven had said, but the thought of her with Bellamy made her stomach churn, just not as much as the thought of Clarke with another person, even with her involved. She wanted to rush toward her, claiming her, but Raven would only mock further.

 

“You didn’t say you didn’t want to!” She granted a small wink at the ladies and gent. Clarke bloomed in a furious blush, shaking her fists. 

 

“Raven, really?!” She scolded. “You’re a dirty pervert!” Raven shrugged, not disagreeing with the sentiment. She let her shit-eating, cheesy grin fill every void of her face. Lexa tensed up, freezing in time with prying eyes resting on her. Clarke stared at her for some backup, Bellamy for reassurance in the awkwardness. 

 

“LAN later tonight?” Lexa’s voice cracked, breaking the tension, addressing Bellamy. She pointed to her xbox hooked up to her tv with her thumb. “Clarke has to work, and I’ll be by myself.”

 

“Hell yeah!” He jammed his hands in the front pocket of his jeans, dragging out his phone to set the time in his notes. “Murphy and Lincoln okay to join?”

 

“Of course!” She folded her arms under her chest, puffing out her hips. Clarke darted her attention back and forth between the two while Raven flicked the splintering wood. “Perfect for a two v two.”

 

“Or a free for all. Troll Murphy, gang up on him in domination or one in the chamber?” Bellamy chuckled. 

 

“Watch him get so pissed he throws the controller and bounces back in his face like last time?” They rolled off one another like old friends in a nursing home, reminiscing of the “good ‘ol days”. 

 

“God, that was hilarious!” Bellamy lowered his head, resting his hands on his hips, laughing, then peered back up at Lexa with one eye closed. “He was like, “Goddamn it, Bellamy! You’re on my side!” then you were all like, “That’s why you quickscope, little bitch!” I’ve never had beer come out of my nose before until that day.” He rubbed it with the haunting tingle reminding him of the painful shooting of carbonated alcohol spewing from his bloody nostrils.

 

“Oh yeah! And Lincoln was sitting there quiet, trying not to laugh his ass off!” Raven perked up, wide eyed, peering at Clarke, who glanced back toward her, completely bewildered to what was going on. She lifted her shoulders in a half shrug. “I’ve never seen that rat get so red in my entire life!” Lexa tossed her head back, bellowing a giggle that Clarke hadn’t heard in forever. She melted, noting the true fire in Lexa’s eyes and a small glint of happiness. Lexa snorted. It caught both Raven and Clarke completely off guard.

 

“Then when Lincoln slid the icecube down his back when it was just me and him left on One in the Chamber.” Bellamy pushed Lexa’s arm back, jostling her around. She flashed a quick half smile, biting her lower lip.

 

“Hey, I would have gotten that if my controller didn’t die!” She shrugged. Bellamy side arm hugged her, rubbing his hands through her hair. Raven caught them in the corner of her eye, landing on Clarke’s bewilderment. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Clarke’s mouth fell to the floor, unable to pick up the pieces at this random encounter that Lexa never shared of herself.

 

“Yeah right, you’re still pissed that I beat you fair and square!” She pulled his arm around her shoulders, holding onto him tight. She playfully pushed him aside with her shoulder. 

 

“Cheap shots aren’t fair, Blake.” She extended her middle finger toward him. Raven’s eyes bulged out of her head. She never thought Lexa had it in her to be as crass as her, forgetting that the Heda is still an angsty kid, just like the rest of them. She was just so stern and hard that it was easily dismissable that she just didn’t do that. Raven jolted her inquisitive brow toward Clarke who was more than mortified.

 

“Bring it, Woods!” Clarke audibly muttered to herself, letting her voice cripple from her amazed lips. Lexa drew Clarke in, holding her hand, then pressed her lips against her temple. “Good times… Good times.” Lexa sauntered toward the fridge, cracking it open. She drew out a bottle, lightly shaking it back and forth toward Clarke. She shook her head no. Lexa shrugged, kicking the fridge closed. She pulled out a bottle opener from her drawer, popping the tops of three brews, holding two between her fingers at the neck, while sipping on one. She galloped back over toward the group, gifting them to Bellamy and Raven, who graciously took it. “Cheers.”

“Well, if everyone would stop shaking each other’s straps, would you kindly hand me that wrench?” Raven set down her brew with a soft thump after taking a long gulp. She rocked back and forth, reaching her extension toward the wrench just out of reach. Lexa picked it up, resting it in her mitts.

 

“The entire frame needs to be taken off and rebuilt.” Lexa took a swig of the bubbly bitter brew, wiping the foam from her top lip with the back of her palm. Clarke curled around her arm, resting her face in the crawl of her neck, brushing her luscious brunette locks from around her ear. She intensely studied the lines of her jaw, pressing her lips underneath it. Bellamy gritted his teeth, turning his attention toward the annoyance brewing from Raven.

 

“Don’t tell me how to do my job.” She snapped. Lexa raised her hands, bottle of beer pinched between her thumb and forefinger, backing away. Raven sighed. “But you’re right. This thing is frayed all to hell. Battering ram?” 

 

“Yeah.” Lexa crouched down next to her, handing Raven a piece of plywood for the quick fix. 

 

“Figures…” Raven took the wood out of her hands. Lexa cracked a smile at her, her brow flinching at the corner, which was enough to make Clarke dramatically fall to the floor, while removing her pants, screaming “take me”. Raven was caught in a slight blush. Lexa couldn’t figure out if it was out of annoyance, or that she was starting to warm up to her again. Clarke caught the blush, reaching out toward Lexa, popping out one of her buttons with her tug on her sleeve. Bellamy twisted, clapping his hand over his mouth, then rubbed his head in his hands. Clarke dragged her to her feet, buttoning her shirt back. Lexa planted a soft caress on her cheek, then rubbed her chin, pushing the girl aside to assist Raven once more.

 

“I was thinking steel reinforcement.” She leaned back down, crouching in her boots. It creaked in the leather, while she cocked her head to the side. Her hair draped around her shoulder, exposing her long neck. She glanced at Bellamy and Clarke, who were both more red than Clarke’s hair the time she thought crimson would look good on her. The Heda’s brow tensed, then returned her attention toward Raven, who was just as red as the other two. She didn’t understand why until Bellamy reached his hand down, pulling her shirt back around her exposed hip, which poked out her black lace thong. Clarke beamed with pride of the gorgeous woman who she could finally call hers. She often told Bellamy that being model worthy gorgeous and a fierce leader weren’t mutually exclusive, addressing the hard Heda.

 

“F-figures.” Raven exhaled. “With your track record here, I was thinking the same thing.” She turned her attention back on the door, feeling up the frame with nimble fingers. “Why isn’t your landlord repairing it?”

 

“He’s nowhere to be found. Plus, I kind of signed the lease agreement since he knows that I’m Heda to replace any damage from “your damn lady drama”. “ Lexa repeated her landlord’s words with his foreign Trikru inflection. Bellamy chuckled at it and Clarke grinned ear to ear. She loved that her best friends were finally talking again, but she made a mental note to check the house for pods later. 

 

“Well, Drama is your middle name.” Bellamy taunted. His shoulders sagged, trogging toward the waste bin, setting his empty beer bottle in it. Lexa tensed up, clasping her hands behind her back, puffing out her chest.

 

“Bellamy, really?” She knew it was too good to be true. Clarke was so sure that they were about to start fighting again. Her mouth pressed in a grimace, casting an annoyed glow toward Bellamy. 

 

“Relax, Griffin.” He curled his fingers around Clarke’s head, drawing her in to give her a big kiss on her forehead. He released her quickly. “So, Lex, what’s all this about? You wanted to see us?” 

 

“Luna is back.” Raven lifted her frozen wide eyes toward the Heda. Bellamy crossed his arms, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Lexa lifted her chin, staring at the two from the bridge of her nose. Bellamy’s fists clenched in his folded arms. “She was the one who broke down my door.”

 

“And what does she want from you this time?” His husky voice gruffed with an exasperated sigh. Clarke studied him closely. He wasn’t acting like he was surprised with her still alive, and she certainly didn’t tell him about their plan to contact Luna either. She inspected the two. One was the bearer of bad news, while the other shown stern pity and a protective aura. 

 

“She’s offering her resources if we join up with her to end the war.” Lexa informed the group. 

 

“I’m in.” Bellamy bellowed without missing a beat. 

 

“Just like that?” Clarke shook her head in bewilderment. 

 

“Just like that.” Bellamy repeated. 

 

“That was fast…” She was perplexed that Bellamy didn’t have his usual questions or reservations. It wasn’t about Clarke. It was about Lexa. Something was seriously up, and Clarke needed to get to the bottom of it. They were as close as they were before everything, and Bellamy wouldn’t have forgiven Lexa so easily for telling him off and arresting him, especially after dropping a bombshell on her that he’s always been in love with Clarke. Bellamy was never good with competition. 

 

“I don’t trust Luna, and I know you’re going with the Commander, Princess. I’m not gonna leave either of you stranded.” He clenched his jaw. It jetted out of his cheeks on both of the sides of his face. Clarke’s brow crinkled into a simmering inquiry. 

 

“That’s not saying much. But it’s an extra body, so, Hey!” Raven attempted to break Clarke’s tension. Lexa nodded at the man, stretching her forearm toward him. Bellamy clasped it tight, peering deep into the Heda’s silver-greens. Clarke’s mouth dropped to the floor.

 

“You don’t seem very surprised about the news, Bellamy.” She finally addressed the elephant in the room. Bellamy dropped Lexa’s arm. “Raven, I get. She’s in the PD, but you?”

 

“We text.” He grunted. “A lot.” He flashed Lexa a quick wink. She bowed her head, closing her eyes. 

 

“What?!” This was complete news to Clarke. Lexa hadn’t talked much about who she hung out with or talked with. Clarke didn’t feel it necessary to question the Heda about her phone like an overbearing, over controlling girlfriend. What Lexa did was her business, but she wished that she would have asked Lexa more about her, rather than catching her by the mouth every chance she got; although that was one of her favorite things to do. Lexa was her kryptonite, and her kiss drove her to ruin. It was her drug and she needed her fix. Any other thing went to the wayside, and now Clarke regretted treating her like property, only talking about herself instead of asking how Lexa was doing. 

 

“Clarke, you have that face again…” Lexa was onto her. She would have disagreed, that Clarke was just perfect, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Clarke wished she’d take her off of the shelf sometimes, but that was never Lexa’s style. 

 

“She didn’t tell you we’ve been talking?” Bellamy tossed his hands in his pockets, dragging his foot across the ground like a two year old, caught in the cookie jar. Clarke cocked her head to the side.

 

“No!” Her glare traveled with unnerving thoroughness across the Heda. 

 

“I can’t have friends?” Lexa shrugged, rubbing her hair behind her ear. She was nervous, which was so unlike her in front of anyone else. She was always stark and hard toward everyone she didn’t deem worthy to let in, holding up the mask for everyone to see her as a leader, and not some angsty adolescent. Lexa pierced her soul with her silver-greens, wounding her. Clarke felt her pulse in her loins, her breathing shortening.

 

“Not what I said.” She quickly crossed her ankles. Lexa cocked a brow at her. Clarke gulped the air, scooping the edge of Lexa’s shirt she wore in her paws, twisting it harshly. She had to study the room, swinging her attention toward anything, but the light hitting the Heda in the right ways, making her eyes pop even more vibrant than they are.

 

“Back on track, what do you mean Lexa?” Raven noted Clarke’s growing arousal. She didn’t have a lot of time to work before her shift, and Lexa knew it. She lifted her chin, peering at the group with a raised brow at the edge of her nose. Clarke wasn’t sure of what to make of the Heda. She was so soft, then suddenly snapped into attention. 

 

“In two days, Luna will be coming to take us to her base.” She briefed, pressing her lips together. Bellamy rubbed the scruff on his neck. It was like sandpaper to a smooth block of wood. He rolled his eyes.

 

“Please tell me you’re joking.” Raven threw her tools down to the floor in a loud thud. It bounced back up, landing by Clarke’s feet. She bent over to pick it up, giving it back to Raven. 

 

“I’ve already promised Luna that you, Octavia, Lincoln, Murphy and Bellamy were in.” Raven brushed her hands on the knees of her pants. She growled while standing to face Clarke head on. “They need us all at the same place.” Raven stepped closer. “We need to meet here.”

 

“I hate you didn’t consult me first, but yeah, I’m in.” She grabbed her empty brew bottle, walking it over toward the waste bin. She returned back to the door, setting down on her knees, sifting through a plastic bag full of long nails. 

 

“Thank you.” Clarke set her hand on the top of Raven’s head. She glanced up at her, pressing her shirt against her exposed legs, to close the peaking boyshorts underneath. Lexa blew out hot air, noticing the two go back and forth like siblings.

 

“Just be sure to consult us first before condemning us to death.” She wiggled away from Clarke’s resting hand. Clarke shifted her reach under her chest, holding her flat palms within the corners of her arms. She began to shake, goosebumps protruding on her arms with the cool breeze kicking in the frame of the door, while a neighbor shuffled by in a heavy winter jacket. Lexa smirked at the cold Wanheda, wrapping her arms around to warm her. 

 

“You’re PD under Lexa’s command Ray. It's part of your job.” Clarke gave a dismissive wave of her hand toward the mechanic, who rolled her eyes in the process at one of her best friends and roommates. She wasn’t about to give up the fight so easily. 

 

“Hey, this is after hours now.” She groaned. “Just a heads up would have been nice, Griffin.”

 

“Well, I’m sorry. But it’s done.” Clarke shook her head, dismissing her with a harsh snap. Raven stared at her in disbelief. Clarke was in such a good mood earlier, however, when it came to Lexa, she was like an overbearing, over controlling mama telling her daughter she was going to do something for her dad, even when her dad didn’t even ask, or expect it of her. 

 

“Yeah, whatever.” Raven scooped up her hammer, beginning to slam the nails in as hard as possible. Lexa glared at Clarke, disapproving of the way she handled it. Clarke shrugged her shoulders at the Heda. 

 

“Thank you for backing me and helping in this, Raven. I know we didn’t ask, but I really appreciate it. The choice was really yours, despite what Clarke says. I’d never make you be a part of this if you weren’t willing, but we need you. That’s what Clarke was trying to get at.” She apologized and thanked Raven, cleaning up the tension left in the wake of Wanheda. That was the one thing she didn’t miss about Clarke. She’d be screaming in the background, and Lexa had to clean up the mess Wanheda left in her tracks.

 

“Don’t mention it.” Raven waved her off, half smiling. Lexa pranced toward the fridge, dragging out three more brews. Bellamy shook his head, no.

 

“I gotta get going.” Lexa nodded, opening the fridge and sliding one of the brews back inside. She snapped the tops with her hands, drawing close to Raven, who graciously accepted the peace offering. Clarke realized she did that “thing” again where she comes off as a little too abrasive. She sucked in her bottom lip, biting it with the front of her teeth. “I’ll let Murph and Lincoln know.”

 

“Thank you.” Wanheda sighed a furious sigh. Bellamy winked, curling his bicep around her crown, drawing her in to kiss the top of her hair. Lexa smirked at the two of them acting like siblings instead of someone pining after her girl. It was a sigh of relief. 

 

“Anything, Princess.” Bellamy turned to climb out of the frame, but spun around to face Lexa. He jabbed a sausage finger in her bruised shoulder, not meaning to hurt her at her sudden sigh. “Get ready to get your ass kicked.”

 

“My place or yours?” Lexa didn’t even bother banter with him. She wanted her actions to speak louder when she crushed his soul, to which Lincoln named her gamertag “HedaStealYourGirl”. Clarke watched the two go at it again, still in complete bewilderment that she had missed their friendship blooming again. But, she couldn’t be with Lexa twenty-four-seven like she would prefer

 

“Better be yours. Don’t want the ladies to distract us.” He winked at Raven, who rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a half smirk. She grabbed the power drill, screwing in the new hinges in the plywood. 

 

“I’ll stock up on the Lager.” 

 

“That’s why you’re my favorite Heda.” His lip curled up, as he bowed his head, peeking back up at the Heda with one eye open. He curled his muscular arms around Lexa, pressing his lips to the top of her head, which caused her to jolt back after ramming her elbow in his gut. He rubbed at the soreness. “Cheers. See you tonight, Heda.” He chuckled. “Good luck with the Princess. She’s a handful.”

 

“Tell me about it.” All three laughed at Clarke’s expense, who set her fists on her waist. She was not amused. Lexa curled her hands around Clarke’s waist. Bellamy nodded to the three ladies, waltzing out the door with bellowing laughter. “Hodnes, I’m just trying to help.” Lexa shrugged a shoulder toward her girl. 

 

“Go help somewhere else.” Clarke scolded. “You’re really relaxed for once. Is it because of your new boyfriend?” Lexa rolled her eyes, letting it slide off of her shoulder. Clarke was just sulking that she didn’t know that they talked again. Lexa knew she should have told her, but with everything that went on, there was barely any room to talk, or think, or do anything for that matter. She couldn’t get Clarke off of her, which she didn’t mind, but she did wish she had the ability to talk to her about matters again without her coming onto her. 

 

“Well, that didn’t take long to get chummy again.” Raven coughed. Lexa raised her bottle, shaking it back and forth. The bubbles foamed up at the head in the top. She pressed the rim to her lips, drawing in its contents. “Bros before hoes?” 

 

“What did you just say?” Clarke narrowed her eyes at the mechanic. Clarke slightly charged at her, giving her a chance to change her story. Lexa deeply sighed, holding her temperamental girlfriend back from her roommate. Clarke’s crazed stare bore holes in the Heda’s skull. She puckered her lips, brushing the soft tips against the button of Clarke’s nose, then forehead. Raven bit her lip, focusing solely on the wood she drilled into. She set down the tool, glancing up at the two, taking a swig of her beer. 

 

“Clarke comes first.” She reassured Wanheda, who spread her legs, crossing her arms under her breasts like an overprotective, overbearing girlfriend. Lexa wondered why she bothered sometimes. She definitely did not miss the jealousy Clarke screamed out while clinging on her like a Koala on a eucalyptus tree. “We fought, then talked it out. We’ve been cool since we caught Emerson.”

 

“Don’t you dare give me that Heda look, Lexa.” Clarke was still bitter. She wanted Lexa’s laughter, her humor, her happiness as a result of her, not because of someone else. She realized she really just wanted her to be happy, but the jealousy ate away at her. Lexa’s face fell. She cocked a brow at the woman, and Clarke melted. 

 

“I wish you would have told me.” Clarke pressed her mouth together. Lexa snapped into attention, reverting back to her natural, tense, stature. She raised her chin to Clarke.

 

“He’s a “brother”, Clarke. I've a lot on my mind and, I’m trying. I know it's gonna take a lot to earn back all of your trust, but I'm trying.” Lexa reached down, handing Raven the piece of plywood she stretched for, but never asked anyone to give it to her. Raven graciously took it.

 

“I know you are, and I love you more for it.” Lexa’s soft eyes trailed Clarke’s sky blues down to her mouth. Lexa’s lips parted, short of breath. She couldn’t believe that this girl was hers, that she was finally feeling normal, and not like someone who owed a damn thing to the world. Clarke had relaxed her, completely, and their friends gave her strength. She was ready. She was ready to ride into battle on her Harley and take down Titus and Nia. She was ready to win this damn war. Lexa slowly leaned in, pressing her cool lip against Clarke’s. She lightly pulled away. Clarke opened her mouth, flicking her tongue against her taste, then leaned back in for another collision. Raven dramatically looked up at the two. Clarke yanked on the Heda’s pants into her pelvis, threatening to fuse together.

 

“Ugh, get a room!” Raven boomed at the two, snapping Lexa out of her trance. Clarke was a drug, drawing her into this high with the collision of her kiss, that made it so hard to stop. Lexa didn’t want anyone to see her in her most vulnerable state, except for Clarke, but the wanheda made it so damn hard to do so. She domesticated the beast, which both relaxed the Heda and frightened her to death.

 

“Thank you for fixing the door, Raven.” She completely backed away from Clarke, who raised her fingers, catching her by the belt, yanking her back toward her. Lexa spun around, away from Clarke. She clung to her back, brushing her hair away from her neck, lightly nibbling on it. “And, thank you for giving me another chance.” Raven’s blooming blush rosed into a crimson around her features, noting her roommate feverishly roll her tongue on the side of Lexa’s neck, drinking her in. Lexa whispered, “stop it.” to the blonde, who refused the request. Lexa felt awkward, her pulse beat in her loins. She casted a pleading glow toward Raven.

 

“You got it boss.” Raven picked up on the que, but also responded toward Lexa’s thanks. “But, you fuck up again and I'll help anyone who is out to get you!” That got Clarke to stop. She snapped her attention toward the mechanic.

 

“RAVEN!” She scolded. Lexa mouthed “thank you.” Raven winked quickly, smirking. She ran her fingers against the frame of the finished patchwork.

 

“Fair enough.” Lexa nodded in agreeance. Clarke didn’t like what she was hearing, but let it go. “I'd invite you and Octavia to come play too, but I know you have the graveyard shift.” Raven peered up at the Heda, her face soft. 

 

“Thanks for the invite anyway. Appreciate it, Heda.” Clarke’s heart fluttered. Lexa was slowly winning them back over, and she knew it would take some time, but she was slowly winning them back. That is all Clarke could ever ask for. She was in this for the long haul, until they both left the world, regardless if Heda liked it or not. She pressed her lips against Lexa’s ear. 

 

“Gotta get ready to go. Don’t get into too much trouble.” She pushed the long of her forefinger against Lexa’s nose. “I don’t want to bail you out again.” Lexa smiled, puckering her mouth to press her caress against it. Clarke’s cheeks creaked into a wide grin.

 

“Hey, as long as he plays by the rules, there won’t be any unrest.” Lexa laughed. She couldn’t contain her snort. Clarke curled her outstretched arms around the Heda’s neck, who set her hands on her waist. Raven flashed them a quick grin, noting the cuteness. She could read the pure, unfiltered, unbreakable bond between the two. Lexa set her forehead against Clarke’s, curling her lower half into her. Electricity circulated around the two, exposed to the fraying wires sparking around them.

 

“Such a nerd.” Clarke smiled on her lip. “Enjoy your peace while you can.” Lexa backed away, nervous of that comment. Clarke focused on her lips, then back into her soft, silver-greens. “I’m just scared of what’s gonna happen.”

 

“Don’t be afraid.” She set her forehead against Clarke’s. Raven beamed with pure adoration at the adorable couple, clearly deep in love. Lexa brushed her caress under Clarke’s chin, her vision focusing deep within Clarke’s sky-blues. “We’ve got this, Hodnes.” She booped her nose with hers. 

 

“I hope you’re right. Gotta go.” She pulled away from Lexa. “I love you.” Lexa caught her by the hand, spinning her around to catch her on both sides of her face, longingly searching her awaiting mouth with hers. 

 

“I love you too.” Lexa lingered on her tongue, flicking it on the bottom of her lip, drawing her in once more. Raven coughed harshly at the sudden groping, as the world fell away from them, forgetting she was in the room. 

 

“Seriously, guys?!” She complained. They didn’t hear her. “I’m RIGHT HERE!” Lexa pulled away, swinging her head toward the mechanic. Clarke set her head on Lexa’s temple, curling her fingers around her shoulder, pressing her lips to Lexa’s head, then releasing the girl toward the front entrance of the door. She slid on her shoes over her tube socks, then proceeded to walk out the door frame. “WAIT, CLARKE!” Raven called out to her. Clarke pranced down the hallway. “YOU’RE NOT WEARING ANY PANTS!”

 

Two Days Later

 

Everything happened so suddenly. First, there were seven resting in the cramped apartment off of the corner of Lincoln and Jefferson, until a strong girl with a blue tattoo across her button nose and a hand deformity, damn near knocked down the handiwork that Raven had finished reinforcing a day ago. Lexa opened the barricade before she could knock off the hinges by the force of her body bowing out the door. Lexa flung it open and she crawled through the barricade, stumbling in a few paces before resting her search upon a tall man with a gargantuan adam’s apple and slick back hair, with baggy cargo pants.

 

“JOHN!” She sprinted toward him in a furious rush, damn near knocking over Octavia in the process. Murphy was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Lexa figured that who was going to be picked up was on a need to know basis, or that they just haven’t seen each other in a long time. She fantasized in her head that she would probably be the same way with Clarke if she was gone for a while, on the lamb with nowhere to run because she was an outlaw, in love with the lawman. 

 

“Emori!” Murphy scooped her up, lifting her off of her feet in a furious bearhug. She rested her hands on both sides of his face, feverishly pressing her lips against his. Octavia grinned, reaching out for Lincoln’s hand. Lexa also had the urge to hold onto Clarke, but felt it the wrong time and place to. She needed to be Heda right now, not Clarke’s lover. “You’re our contact?” He set her back down on her feet. 

 

“I’m not alone.” She waved her hand, and seven more big burly men crawled inside the cramped apartment. Everyone danced on the knife’s edge, unnerved by the distrust they had for Luna and her practices. They only knew what Clarke and Lexa had stated, however, they did not know what they were going to do. Bellamy nervously rocked, raising his pistol on his hip.

 

“Ambush!” Octavia and Raven drew their weapons as well, raising them around the guard, who all bore their irons on their hips, attached to the straps, secured around their backs. Bellamy clutched his pistol with sweaty palms, pointed at Emori. Murphy jumped in front of him, raising his hands at chest level, pushing Emori behind him. Lexa set a hand on the barrel, knocking it toward the floor. 

 

“Bellamy, stand down.” She barked the order. He swung his restless gaze from the guard to Emori and Murphy, then back to Lexa. He nodded to her, sliding the safety back down after checking the rack. He pushed it back inside it’s holster, however, he left did not secure the strap back overtop for quick access, should anything go down.

 

“Luna said you may act like that…” Emori sighed, exasperated. She pressed her lips with a slight frown. Murphy lowered his guard, intertwining his palm within her claw. She gave him a half smile, while Murphy rocked back and forth on his feet, ready to jump back into action, should he have to defend her from Bellamy’s trigger happy tendency of flying off the handle.

 

“Where is Luna?” Lincoln gruffed. Lexa already knew the answer. She wasn’t going to risk herself to a wild bunch of unknowns she’s never met before. She’d likely have Emori bring them to her like she used to. She’d recruit younger kids on the playground to fetch her and their brother, leading them into a dark area they had no idea where they were going.

 

“Safe back at our base. We are going to take you there.” Emori casually coughed. Lexa glanced down toward her fingers, noticing Clarke pry open and then fill her clenched talon with her reassurance. One of the big guys opened a satchel, drawing out small vials, not even a quarter shot’s worth for each person in the area. The liquid was clear, like water or vodka. Clarke opened the contents, taking a whiff. It wreaked like vodka. 

“What the hell is that?” Raven questioned. She wasn’t about to take a damn drink of something she didn’t know what it was. Clarke and Lexa both knew better that she wouldn’t just allow herself to take some random drink, although she never had any issues doing that at the bar. She knew it was some sort of liquid that would knock her on her ass drunk, but this vial was a mystery and enough to act like cyanide. 

 

“Safe passage.” Murphy popped open his lid, swirling it around. Emori waved her non-deformed hand out for the rest of the group to take their lids off and drink. Octavia pursed her lips, shaking her head back and forth. Lincoln kept his focused gaze down at his wife. 

 

“Knock out juice?” She raised a skeptical brow. “No thanks.” Octavia pushed it back in the guard’s face. He refused to take it. She shoved it harder in his face, but he backed away. She rested it in her fumbling fingers, giving up the fight against the behemoth. Murphy shot back the contents, then sat upon the floor, back against the wall. Emori trailed his descent. 

“See you on the other side.” He winked at his girlfriend. Bellamy observed in pure horror the casual way he took it without question or thought. Lexa knew that if a rat like him could take the vial so nonchalant, then the rest of them had nothing to worry about. Murphy was all about self preservation at all costs, and drinking something that could be poison was not his style. He would rather kill everyone else in the room before even considering taking something that could be cyanide.

 

“If only he drinks, only he goes.” Emori waved to the others, while Murphy fell into a deep drunken slumber. He wasn’t completely out, but out enough to impair his sense. “You won’t have any harm come to you. I promise. We can move him, but we don’t have to fully carry him. We only impair enough to distort all senses, so that our base remains hidden.”

 

“I don’t trust this.” Bellamy spoke up. He crossed his arms over his chest, spreading his legs. Lexa remained quiet, contemplating if it was really a good idea to take it. She needed Luna’s help, otherwise Nia and Titus would get more out of control, like spoiled children on Christmas, who didn’t receive their hundredth present. The ends justified the means. They HAD to take it. It was just convincing the others to do so that became the daunting task. 

 

“Neither do I.” Raven admitted, taking Bellamy’s side. Lexa pressed her mouth. She didn’t blame them. She couldn’t, but she needed them. She just didn't feel it her place to say it, especially when they were starting to trust her again. Clarke spoke in her place. 

 

“Raven, Bellamy, we have to.”

 

“Well, I trust Luna.” Lincoln knocked back the vial, swishing it around in his mouth, then swallowing the bitter alcoholic residue. He set down on Lexa’s couch, considering everyone else having to haul his tall frame towards wherever they were going. Octavia puffed out her cheeks, exhaling. 

 

“And I trust Lincoln.” She tilted her head back, sucking down the contents of the vial. Lexa nodded, appreciative. Octavia sat down next to her husband, resting her head against his shoulder. Lincoln kissed the top of her head, slowly fading into unconsciousness. Octavia quickly followed into the slumber. Raven and Bellamy searched each other. Lexa knew they were conflicted, but close to the breaking point where they would actually take it. They just needed a little more pushing. 

 

“We need you. Despite everything, we need you.” Lexa finally spoke up for herself. Raven and Bellamy both sharply snapped their necks to study her. Raven swung her restless gaze from Clarke to Lexa, then back to Clarke. Her sky-blues drilled pleading gaze in the mechanic. She rolled her eyes. 

 

“Fine.” Raven chugged the contents of the vial. “Ugh, this is like Vodka with piss in it!” She licked her lips, sticking her tongue out like tasting sour milk. Suddenly, she collapsed to the floor. Bellamy caught her before her head could bounce on the ground. Lexa was sure she was going to have a bruise on her arm. The contents hit her faster than the others.

 

“Clarke?” He questioned. Bellamy knew that Lexa would ask him to just take it like she asked Raven. He needed some voice of reason before he committed himself to this drug. 

 

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine.” She set her hands on her hips. “But, if she goes, I go.” Clarke pointed at Lexa with a flat palm, annunciating every word. Bellamy sucked in a deep breath. He wasn’t about to go quietly, asking for some sort of pardon, or if there was another way around it. Lexa knew he would follow them, just to make sure that they got to where they needed to go okay. But, she couldn’t afford him to do it. She needed everyone to play by the rules, less they suffer the wrath of Luna. Luna always had a way about her to get whatever the hell she wanted, at any costs. If she did not get her way, life and limb would be up for debate as penance for the disobedience. 

 

“Lexa, you can’t be… Look, I’m down to help you two, but I did not sign up to being roofied.” He scolded. 

 

“What other choice do we have, Bellamy?” Lexa tried to reason with him. If he didn’t want to go and back out, she wouldn’t hold it against him, but they needed all the bodies they could get, and his military tactics, leading missions was much needed. Being a cop, she could only do so much, and research so much. She needed the cunning of her warriors, and she knew she was asking everyone to go die for her, but that is what it meant to be a leader. It was an easy call to ask when the ends justified the means. Clarke popped off the top of her vial, and Lexa’s, replacing it back in her hand. 

 

“Ogeda.” Clarke knocked back the shot. Lexa followed suit, a few seconds behind her beloved. They both sat down on the floor together, clasping their hands tight. Bellamy observed them fall into a zombified like state. Emori blew out hot air from her parched lips, observing the boy. 

 

“Do you wish to join?” She questioned. She pulled out a datapad from her pants pocket, checking the roster off of everyone who had taken the drug. Bellamy was the only one left. She flicked her lids wildly up at him, casting her glow from above her brow. Bellamy pursed his mouth tight. 

 

“Haven’t you ever heard of not drinking the Kool-aid?” He mocked, trying to make light of the situation. He didn’t want to take the shot, but he knew that he had to. Everyone was counting on him, and they needed him. Lexa had talked with him earlier, that he would be the catalyst for the military operations to end the war. She couldn’t do it without him, and Lexa’s haunting words resonated in his skull. “If you can’t do this for you or me or our people, when you’re not so sure, do it for her. I know you love her, and I’m sorry you were caught in the crossfire, but I know you’ll do what’s right to keep her safe, same as me.”

 

“Then, this is good-bye.” Emori raised her hands, signaling one of the guard to come toward Bellamy. There was no getting out of it, and he knew Lexa was right. He hated it about her, but Lexa had a tendency to always be right, even when he couldn’t see what was going on, or what they were doing. 

 

“Wait…” The guard stopped his slow charge. Bellamy twisted the top, pressing the vial to his lips, quickly gulping down the drugged juice. His head grew heavy and his sight dim until he couldn’t see anything any further. His body sunk to the floor next to Clarke and Lexa’s. Emori nodded to the guard, who scooped the new recruits up, dragging them toward the door. Emori closed it behind them.

 

Two Hours Later

 

The darkness shrouded their eyes in the cool steel on their skin. Lexa massaged the clear kink in her neck, rotating it around. Clarke squeezed her sky-blues, refocusing her fuzzed vision. The others rubbed their necks, checking one another to make sure they were alright. Bellamy grabbed at his waist. 

 

“My gun is gone!” He frantically boomed, untrusting of what was going on. They all shielded their eyes from the prying daylight in the crevices of the rusty area. The scent of sea salt resonated around the air, with the warcry of gulls flocking around. Little pitter patters of their webbed feet plopped on the roof of the area. 

 

“They put us in a damn shipping container!” Raven noted, cursing under her breath. She jolted to her feet, banging the side of her fist on the door. “What the hell is this?!” Bang, bang, bang! The entire area echoed with the high pitch rattle. “We’re awake in here!”

 

“Will you cut that shit out!” Bellamy growled. Lincoln rose to his feet, offering his hand out to his wife. Octavia filled the void with hers. Clarke crawled over toward Lexa, whose hands rested on her knees. She brought her caress toward Lexa’s face, crouching overtop of her. Lexa lowered her lids, nodding, then pierced Clarke with her silver-greens. Clarke’s mouth parted, brow scrunching with her growing nerves. She ran her hands through Lexa’s long, dark hair, setting at her temple. Lexa collided her touch over Clarke’s, bringing her hand toward her mouth, then stood. Clarke couldn’t shake the overwhelming knot in her stomach that they were duped, but Lexa didn’t seem as concerned. 

 

“She’s always been like this.” She finally admitted to the group, lifting her shoulders, her palm outstretched. She sauntered toward the entryway of the shipping container, tapping lightly on the corners in a rhythmic pattern, foreign to the rest of the group. It suddenly creaked open, flooding the area with light. Sudden hands flocked to their eyes, their pupils dilating. A silhouette of a woman in a stained sweater with leggings stepped inside. Her almost dreadlocked hair stuck out of each crevice. Emori rushed toward Murphy, clasping her hand in his. The woman sauntered deeper inside. Lincoln lit up like a fresh light bulb in a lamp. 

 

“Luna!” He cantered toward the woman, stretching his hand out to her. She caught it, grinning ear to ear. Lexa rolled her eyes.

 

“It’s good to see you, old friend.” Lincoln and Luna were childhood friends back in the conclave. He was a lowly boy, sent to protect the Nightbloods and train as a medic to save everyone back in the Spire. She knew Luna would approve he kept up his training to protect and serve his people, and that he wasn’t in Jaha’s pocket. Lincoln was always on the straight and narrow. Lexa regarded him as weak for it in their youth; Luna, a hero.

 

Luna waved her hand for everyone to follow her. The group stepped out of the shipping container, into the fresh breeze. Gulls landed on the railings with the rocking back and forth in the middle of a ocean. Two choppers sat on the deck, while seven planes sat on top. Shipping containers stacked on each other in rusty reds and odie greens. So, this is where she’s been hiding, Lexa thought. Clarke’s wide eyes kept her head on a swivel, eyeing every inch of the aircraft carrier. 

 

“Welcome to FlouKru.” Luna widened her arms. The group walked with her. Sailors stopped dead in their tracks, standing at attention. She waved them to stand down. Bellamy immediately tensed up. Lexa struggled with not allowing her sister to read her expression. She kept it blank, but she was just as surprised as the rest of them. She wasn’t expecting this. “We are a covert military operations tactical unit designed to combat domestic terrorism from the inside of our government. We are above the CIA, FBI and Secret Service.” Luna briefed the group like explaining the events of how to ride a bicycle. “Unofficially, our operations are under the guise of vigilantes, hitting small targets as a distraction to combat prying eyes from the real targets.” She stopped in her tracks, turning around, eyeing Lexa. Lexa’s narrowed back at her sister. “Officially, we do not exist.”

 

“This is where you were the entire time.” Lexa crossed her arms across her chest. She was done with the lies, wondering why the hell they didn’t take out Trikru or Jaha a long, long time ago if this was the case. Clarke scooped her hand in Lexa’s back pocket, reading her lover. Lexa wasn’t happy, and Clarke set her lips on the Heda’s shoulder. She glanced back up at Luna.

 

“Yes.” She raised a brow, in the same fashion of Lexa. Bellamy and Clarke studied the sisters intensely, sharing a telepathic conversation with just their eyes. They were, in fact, sisters and Lexa needed to calm down before she attacked her. The tension fell on everyone, cutting them away with jagged knives. Raven nervously chuckled. “President Wallace recruited me specifically when the Spire was destroyed.”

 

“So, why did you agree to take us if you already have forces available?” Clarke begged the question everyone else was so keen to find out. They all focused their attention closely on Luna’s words, making sure not to attack. If something should happen to them there, no one would ever know. They would only have themselves to blame. 

 

“You were desperate, and we needed the medic.” Luna shrugged, tugging at her earlobe. She slouched, stuffing her hands in her front pockets. “Our last one was KIA in the attack on Arkadia Hospital, but you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you.” She gave Clarke a quick wink. 

 

“Why the three days then?” Bellamy croaked. He puffed out his chest, jiggling his jaw back and forth, tensing it then releasing, only to repeat the process. 

 

“Compiling background checks on all of you before we reveal ourselves. We needed to see if the risk was worth it.” Luna rubbed her neck. “Bellamy Blake, Staff Sergeant leading small teams on seventy-four successful missions. John Murphy, Private First Class, up for promotion, congratulations by the way, right hand man of Staff Sergeant Blake.” Emori squeezed Murphy tight. “Lincoln, I already know who you were. I wanted to reach out and recruit you a long while ago, but I couldn’t let anyone know I was still alive.” He twisted his wedding ring around his finger, folding his arms into his chest. “Raven Reyes, Officer, best damn mechanic in TonDC.”

 

“Damn straight.” She couldn’t contain her arrogance. She was proud of her work. The group gave a light hearted chuckle to her shit eating grin. 

 

“Octavia Blake, rookie officer at the TonDCPD. Rewarded for the takedown of Azgeda during the attack and arresting officer of Prince Roan kom Azgeda.” Octavia narrowed her eyes at the woman recalling every single one of the group without looking at a data pad. “Clarke Griffin, daughter of Jake Griffin, one of our top engineers. Your father was a good man. I'm sorry Jaha killed him.” Clarke pressed her mouth together in a saddened half smile. She had no idea her father was involved in this FlouKru. “Anyway, Griffin, next in line to become the Chief of Arkadia and resident. And Lexa…”

 

“Where’s Anya?” She stopped her dead in her tracks before Luna could say anything about her little sister. Octavia and Raven both nodded as well in agreeance. 

 

“We shall be bringing her soon enough.” She quipped back, a little more aggressive than she probably wanted. Lexa rolled her eyes. “She had some affairs to take care of at the PD before we brought her aboard.” 

 

“Where exactly are we? Besides the obvious of an aircraft carrier.” Octavia’s raspy voice wavered as a wave crashed upon the side of the carrier, misting the group with a splash of sea salt. Octavia jolted forward at the frigid spread in the crisp cool air.

 

“Where you are does not matter.” Luna nodded at her. Before Lexa could chime in, she filled the void. “It is a classified matter. Now that we have those introductions out of the way, shall we?” Luna waved her hand toward the bridge. They trudged the long distance toward the tall area with satellite dishes attached to the sides and large antennas. Frayed wiring sizzled overhead to several mechanics repairing metal panels on the side of the walls. The grey and tan rivets creaked with the swaying back and forth. The group climbed inside, climbing the first set of stairs from the flight deck toward the flag bridge. A holopad map sat in the middle of the room. It was a cramped area with several windows to overlook the deck. Swivel chairs stood in place like erect stools. A man with a nappy beard and a rattail shut the weighted door behind them. Lexa scanned the area, observing the man step up toward them. She recognized him, although last time she saw him, they were considerably younger.

 

“Derrek, these are our new recruits.” Luna waved her hand around the area, landing on each and every one of them. She stopped at her sister. Derrek nodded toward the entire room, landing back on the girl standing in front of him. 

 

“Who’s the…” He squinted his eyes, rubbing his fingers throughout his beard. He turned his attention back on Luna. “Oh my god, Luna you didn’t bring HER here!” He clenched his jaw, disapproving. Derrek wore dark black BDU pants, with the ends stuffed in boots. His three-quarter sleeved, navy blue v-neck almost ripped around his bulging pecs. He always was fond of the leather cuffs around his wrists. Lexa remembered that much about him. 

 

“Good to see you too…” Lexa groaned. Clarke cocked her head to the side, dancing back and forth between the two.

 

“You know him?” She questioned.

 

“Luna’s Husband.” She explained. “They got married before the attack on the spire.” Lexa set two fingers on the table, straightening herself, raising her jaw to peer at Derrek down her nose. 

 

“Just… how old is she?” Clarke gawked. 

 

“Old enough.” Luna scratched her nose. “That doesn’t matter.” Sudden pitter patters plopped up the stairs, creaking open the heavy steel doors. A tiny asian woman in a leather jacket brushed past Derrek. “Ah! Anya.”

 

“Could've just used the stairs to get me here instead of that damn chopper.” She rubbed the back of her neck. 

 

“Wait, she wasn’t roofied?!” Bellamy bellowed, annoyed. 

 

“Oh, I was. It doesn’t take a scientist to determine that a chopper being refueled was used to get me here.” She snapped back at the black haired boy. Lexa sucked her teeth. 

 

“Charming… As always.” Luna extended her reach out toward Anya. She graciously clasped it, bringing her in close for a long hug. Lexa knew that her partner truly believed one of her best friends was dead all this time. She didn’t want to ruin their moment. She wasn’t okay with her sister, but she wasn’t going to rob someone else’s joy in seeing someone again they thought they lost. She didn’t feel like that was her place. “Now that everyone is here, shall we begin?”

 

“Jaha has been apprehended. We are now on a race of time before the retaliation.” Lexa fanned out her fingers, cocking her brow. Luna nodded, taking note of the situation. Lexa thought she probably already knew, but the others in the room may not have been so keen on the obvious. 

 

“Indra is home safe, being debriefed on the situation and Kane is personally looking over this.” Anya informed Lexa of her situation and bearings before coming to the war council. She nodded. 

 

“I trust him. He’s one of our top field agents.” Luna whispered under her breath. 

 

“Are you?” That was news to Lexa. Clarke didn’t seem as surprised about her stepfather. She didn’t even know about her biological father being a part of FlouKru, but she wasn’t surprised in the slightest bit. 

 

“Of course!” She muttered. “It all makes perfect sense.” All eyes landed on the blonde. “You need to have some pull so when things go awry, you have someone to reinforce it was the work of Vigilantes or a freak accident instead of a government sting.”

 

“I like her. You finally picked the smart one.” Luna regarded Lexa. It didn’t mean much, but it did mean something that her sister liked Clarke. She never cared much for Costia, easily tricking her by her mind games and riddles when they were younger. It was refreshing that she approved of someone, although it really wasn’t her place. 

 

“Roan is still locked up, and Nia will stop at nothing to protect her heir. Azgeda is sure to attack the prison.” Lincoln informed the group of Lexa’s plan. Lexa told him about it earlier in their LAN party, so that Luna wouldn’t immediately shoot it down. “They need him. Emerson doublecrossed them for Trikru, so she will want revenge.”

 

“Your proposal?” Lexa knew that Luna wasn’t fooled and that it was her plan all along. She spoke up. 

 

“Prisoner transfer with both of them.”

 

“A two for one.” Derrek rubbed his beard, picking up a datapad. He flicked it upward with his forefinger, stopping the scrolling of the page with his thumb. He glanced up toward Luna. 

 

“We make the transfer.” Lexa set her foot down with the full authority of the Heda. She projected her voice, carrying it throughout the entire flag bridge. The room fell silent to her forceful jurisdiction. “We make them think they are ambushing us. Nia wouldn’t risk appearing, herself, however they will take him directly to her.” She paused, reading the room. She actually caught Luna’s attention without the fear of being knocked down. Clarke, however, wasn’t as convinced. “We let them take him and then follow the convoy to their base. We’d have ground teams and teams in the sky to follow at a safe distance.”

 

“Nia isn’t stupid. She’d know it’s too easy.” Clarke contradicted her. Luna’s mouth parted. Clarke knew no one could get away with it, but she had certain, concerns about Lexa’s wellbeing. First of all, her sister staring at them like they are all going on a suicide mission. And, secondly, her extreme trepidation of Lexa rushing off the handle and getting herself killed. She was forever worried about that outcome, and would do anything to prevent it, including stepping on her toes. She was Heda, but Clarke was Wanheda. That granted her equal rights to step up when Lexa was out of her damn mind. 

 

“Not if I’m there.” Clarke shot a warning at Lexa, who completely ignored her. She wasn’t going to have this. She refused to give Lexa that satisfaction of ignoring the woman she loved for some damn crusade that would end in her immediate death. She wasn’t leaving that easy! 

 

“Extra incentive to make it more legit. Brilliant tactic. I like it.” Derrek muttered in congratulations. It was better than anyone had come up with anyway. 

 

“I don’t.” Clarke grabbed at the Heda. “No, Lexa.” Derrek cocked his head to the side, as did Luna. Lexa shifted to her, clasping her hand in hers, creeping a half smile across her stern, cool face. 

 

“I’ll be fine, Hodnes.” Lexa brushed stray strands around Clarke’s ear. Clarke rested her hand over Lexa’s, falling into her embrace, then quickly smacked Lexa’s away. Her mouth parted at Wanheda’s denial. 

“What about us?” Bellamy chimed in. Clarke wondered if he was listening at all. She was about to smack him, but Lexa held her back with her quick words.

 

“You, Murphy, and Lincoln will be my team. They will see we mean business with military assistance. It will sell that it is legitimate.” Lexa briefed the group. Clarke hated this plan with every fiber of her being. She knew that someone was going to get killed, and offering her girlfriend and friends as bait to Azgeda just for the possibility of someone surviving, or hanging back to charge the hiding place was beyond stupid. It was pure suicide.

 

“And, Trikru?” Lincoln placed his palms on the table, leaning over. Derrek set up the holopad on the map below to the holding facility and the streets around, presenting a better visual for everyone to look at. They scanned the area for nearby tall buildings, pointing dots on the areas where Trikru and Azgeda, more than likely, would arrive. Lexa scanned the room. 

 

“If Titus was serious that he wanted to kill me to save me, he’d send one of his goons to intercept and protect his Heda by killing her before she is taken by Azgeda. That agent is expendable and easily taken out. It sells it even more if there are some casualties.” She poked at a few spots that weren’t thought of before, and different areas that their tactical teams could lurk in the shadows, awaiting backup. 

 

“That’s a long shot.” Bellamy rubbed his chiseled, scruffy jaw. “He wanted you dead before, but why would he try again when had the opportunity.”

 

“So that SHE wouldn’t find me or think I was with him.” She pointed her thumb toward her sister, casting all eyes on the head of FlouKru. “He wouldn't let me fall into enemy hands at all costs. He's going to send his best to throw me off to “save” me.” Clarke’s heart sunk deep in her stomach. The thought of losing Lexa damn near brought her to tears. Flashes of her arriving in the OR danced around her head. She tried to shake it off, but Lexa’s out stretched hand, bleeding out and dying on her table, more than once, swam circles in her. She couldn’t take it. 

 

“I truly did not know she wasn't with him.” Luna shrugged them off, biting down on her cuticle. She hunched over, sitting down in one of the stool chairs, pressing her bare foot against the hard metal. Clarke wondered if she really was this genius, or if she was just pretending to make everyone think that she was this fragile creature, who needed help, instead of a ruthless, bloodthirsty killer. “It’s smart. You were close to Titus. I thought it was all a ploy until Jaha’s arrest.”

 

“I hate this idea, Lexa.” Clarke finally admitted to the group. She wasn’t about to let them go at it without saying something. Sympathy washed over Lexa, however, she wasn’t about to back down. She didn’t like the plan as much as Clarke, but she didn’t see any other choice. 

 

“Do you have a better one?” Clarke clenched her jaw at Lexa’s snap. She fought the tears building behind her sky-blues. Lexa hesitated to reach out to her, curling her fingers in her palm instead, dropping it before Luna could notice her weakness. Her love for Clarke made her weak, but gave her the biggest strength. She knew she had to do this. She knew that it was the only way, even when she full heartedly agreed with Clarke that it was, in fact, a suicide mission. She didn’t want Clarke to be any part of it, but she knew that Clarke would follow her to the ends of the earth if she must. 

 

“Okay, and us?” Octavia questioned. No one bothered to address her or their plight with this mission to end the entire gang war by taking out their leaders. She nervously rocked back and forth on her heels, while Raven crossed her arms. 

 

“Raven, we need your help building our tactical exoskeletons.” Luna stood upright, sauntering toward the war council table. 

 

“Crazy lady with the big hair say what?!” Luna flicked a button, revealing the blueprints of the exoskeleton suits that they would give to each of their special operative forces. None of them were completed, but a few prototypes were built to a point for testing. Video looped soldiers in the specialized suits, easily pushing cars out of the way, climbing buildings with ease, and jumping from rooftop to rooftop like some sort of superhuman with special powers. “OOOH! GIVE ME!” Raven clutched her fists around the table, watching the demo tests, pressing down the buttons to gain a closer look at the suits. 

 

“That’s a new one…” Derrek smirked. “No one ever had been excited to build tech.”

 

“You’ve never met Raven Reyes.” Clarke chimed in. Derrek rummaged in a backpack underneath the table, drawing out a glove of the exoskeleton. He tossed it towards Raven, who caught it like an american football, acting as if she just caught the winning pass to the SuperBowl. 

“Come to mama!” She flicked one of the fingers upright, extending its reach. She slid on the glove as quick as she could, noticing the weight of everything. She pressed two buttons, which suddenly started to sizzle and smoke around her. She flung it off of her toward the ground. It left a full hand print indent in the steel deck.

 

“Do be careful.” Luna groaned at the impatient mechanic. “It is still just a prototype. We haven’t figured out the bug yet, but we figured you could take a look at it and see what’s wrong with it.” She turned her attention toward her husband. “Derrek, show our guest to the armory, momentarily.” Derrek nodded, noting the order, and promising to live up to it. 

 

“And me?” Octavia breathed. She was impatient, not wanting to be separated from Lincoln, but ready to fight tooth and nail. 

 

“Lexa and Anya’s backup.” Luna said the satisfying words to Octavia’s ears. She nodded, appreciative that she wouldn't be separated from her husband, and that another cop would be better with the military in the prisoner transfer. 

 

“What about me? Clarke finally spoke up, like Octavia. She wasn’t about to leave Lexa as well, no matter what they said. Lexa turned to her, then scooped her fingers up with hers. Her apologetic mouth parted. Clarke knew without anyone having to tell her. Lexa’s response alone told her she wasn’t going to be on the front with her. 

 

“With my team stalking from the shadows.” Luna cleared her throat, swinging her head on a swivel between the two. Clarke balled her fists, one around Lexa’s paw, much more tight than she anticipated. 

 

“No way, I’m not leaving Lexa.” She snapped at Luna like it was her idea. She knew better. Lexa would send her away to protect her, while staying fast in the face of the fight. She stepped closer to Lexa, possessing her, puffing her chest like a soldier at attention. She wasn’t going to back down.

 

“Then you put her and everyone else in more danger.” Luna swept the room with a flat palm. “We need our medic pulled back. Lincoln can only do so much on the field. We need your hands perfect and pristine for any emergency surgeries.”

 

“Hodnes, I have to do this and you have to let me.” She turned Clarke to look her dead on. Stars filled her sky-blues, peering down the end of her nose. She drew in a long breath. Lexa was so gentle, so soft. She didn’t want to possess her, rather her brow furrowed, staring with glazed eyes and a stern stillness. Clarke’s entire core quaked. 

 

“No, Lexa.” She curled herself into the Heda. She didn’t care that she was Detective, or Heda right now. She pleaded to her better angels, to Lexa, not her position. Lexa set her head on her forehead, filling her fingers with the side of her hair. 

 

“You’d be covering me the entire time. It’s okay.” A frustrated tear fell from Clarke’s eye while Lexa swept her hair behind her ear, then thumbed away the salty waters with the pad of her thumb. She held fast, like a soldier about to leave home for a tour of duty. She wasn’t about to give up, and Clarke knew she was on the losing end of this. Heda was Heda, not Lexa, but she still graced Clarke with chilling empathy. 

 

“I don’t trust this.” Clarke straightened up, demonstrating her strength. She lost, but she wasn’t going down without flailing against her resistances on this plan. It would get Lexa killed, and she wasn’t going to stand there and watch her die. 

 

“Then, trust me.” Detective Woods clenched her jaw, pointing her forefinger and thumb toward the ground, annunciating each word. 

 

“I can’t do that.” Lexa lunged forward, with a cold, dead stare. The room fell still. All eyes stared at the two. Whenever Clarke wouldn’t get her way, she turned into a little homicidal harlot. Lexa and everyone else knew this, except for Derrek and Luna, but they were fast going to find out. Bellamy bowed his head in his hands, backing himself away from the tension. The others shifted, uncomfortable with the duel between the lovers. 

“I trust you with my life, but I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid.” Clarke explained her sudden unrest to the Heda, who still wasn’t having any of it. She rolled her eyes, clenching her jaw. “You got shot once, then ripped out your stitches, then got shot again.” Clarke grabbed her by the face, staring at her dead in the eye. “You push yourself until you collapse and I don’t trust you won’t do that again. I don’t trust that I will make it in time when you fly off the handles, yet again.” Lexa set her thumbs adjacent to the woman’s face, speaking as herself, not some leader who owes everything to her people. She spoke as her girlfriend, who owes everything to Clarke.

“Clarke… I’ll be careful. I promise.” Clarke smacked her embrace away. Prying eyes lingered on the two. Luna grew more annoyed by the second.

 

“I thought you made no promises.” Clarke snarled, backing away from the Heda. 

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind.” Lexa snapped back.

 

“Lexa, no.”

 

“Wanheda, yes.” Lexa growled at her like she would a suspect she’s bringing in. Clarke recoiled. Lexa had never talked to her like that, not before their split, and certainly not after. It was cold, meticulous and uncaring. Clarke couldn’t believe that Heda had the gall to say that to her. She swallowed the lump in her throat, shooting daggers at the unwavering stone creature.

 

“Wanheda?” Derrek shook his head, gasping. “Ah, now it all makes sense. WE need them.”

 

“Yes.” Luna answered. “Now, if you two are quite finished in your lover’s quarrel…”

 

“We are.” Lexa spoke for both of them, dropping the subject of Clarke’s stark reservations. “Let’s get into positions and rally the forces. We don’t have much time.”

 

“Agreed.” Luna nodded.

 

“Lexa…”

 

“It’s done, Hodnes. Now, beja. Shof op.” She snapped at Clarke, who had never heard Lexa speak to her that way. She didn’t realize just how much Lexa was on edge, until she flashed her an exasperated sigh. She needed Lexa to just relax, let someone else take command, but the Commander would never accept that. She had to do this, and Clarke had to let her. She couldn’t be distracted by her, less Clarke wanted her dead, and she understood in that second, with just that glance. It wasn’t anger at her. It was her stepping on her toes when she was doing what she does best; lead. Clarke filled her hand with an apologetic embrace. “We need to leave.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!!WARNING TRIGGER WARNING!!!!! EXTREME GRAPHIC VIOLENT CONTENT!!!!!
> 
> The war is coming to a head while Lexa and Clarke take up the plan to let Roan go. 
> 
> Lexa is in for a surprise when she is suddenly betrayed by someone she never thought would betray her. 
> 
> What does this mean for our fearless Hedas?
> 
> Find out more in Only You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!SERIOUS TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!
> 
> !!!! SERIOUS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE!!!!
> 
> !!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!!
> 
> !!!! YOU WILL CRINGE, I DID NOT PULL ANY PUNCHES!!!!!
> 
> !!!! POSSIBLE NSFW FROM THE BRUTALITY!!!!
> 
> You have been thoroughly warned.

Chapter 15

 

GROUND FORCE

 

The damp, cool air swarmed around the two teams, one in the sky, the other on the ground. It was dark, past twilight, and the wind wisped around them, freezing their exteriors. The lamp posts illuminated the area with the faint residue of rain around the pavement. Prancing boots stomped upon the ground. Lexa sat outside of the prisoner transfer vehicle, shoving her fingers in her pockets, bouncing up and down from the cold. Anya checked the gauges, waiting for any response. It was nearly two am, when the city was lulling to sleep, and there was less chances for any civilian casualties. Lexa slid her fingers out from her pockets, blowing hot air into them. A sudden buzzing of a familiar voice echoed in her head. 

 

“Commander Raccoon, are you in position?” The radio sizzled in her ear. Luna smacked her gums to Lexa’s immediate eye roll. She hated when Luna would call her that. All the way back from the conclave, Lexa would wear gunky eye makeup, smearing down her face like warpaint. It was the paint of their people, but Luna always made fun of her for it. The nickname stuck. 

 

“I told you not to call me that…” Lexa groaned, clicking on the radio comms. She took notice of Clarke’s adorable cough, masking her giggle at the Heda’s annoyance. “Affirmative.” Lexa and Anya wore the same thing as everyone else on the ground, a bulletproof vest, with dark, tactical pants, extra compartments for their ammunition, and a strap for a knife that she liked to toss in the air, catching it with two fingers at the blade. She needed to fidget with something to keep her mind sharp on the matters at hand and off of the one she’d fight and die for. Her chuckling cough rained a cascade of worry and adoration on her. She was glad that at least Clarke was safe in the sky, and not by her side. She couldn’t have her messing up the mission, getting herself killed just to save her. 

 

“And Panda?” The static rang out in their ears. Lexa leaned back on her heal, checking out her partner, who stopped dead in her tracks. She was completely red, shaking her fists after smashing a datapad in the passenger’s side seat of the open prisoner convoy van. 

 

“That’s extremely racist!” Anya sneered into the mic. She raised her palms to her head, brushing back the long braid. Lexa pulled her ponytail higher, exposing her ears to the elements. Mists of rain crashed upon them. Lexa glanced up to the sky, like it was some sort of omen. It wasn’t supposed to rain today, but suddenly, even the heavens wept. She studied the building she was sure Clarke was on top of, scanning the night’s sky for any glint of the blonde. She knew Luna wouldn’t risk her approaching the rails, but she had to check, just in case. 

 

Lexa was terrified; so bloody terrified. She didn’t want Clarke caught in the crossfire, and relished the thought of Clarke watching her from the sky, should something happen. She wanted to fight for her, and that love she had to protect Clarke gave her the courage to go forth with what needed to be done. 

 

On the chopper ride over, Clarke held onto her tight, refusing to let go, no matter who was watching. She just held onto her side like she knew something was going to happen. She was as terrified to lose her once again as Lexa was to lose her, after they realized how vital to their survival each other was. Clarke was the pulse in her veins, in the cigarette she breathed with the boys before taking on the job. She was the war that she waged, and the one thing the Heda loved most about herself. Clarke was her universe, and she would gladly give up her life if it meant she was safe. Azgeda could beat her, berate her, kill her, squash her soul into oblivion, but if they dare touched Clarke… She needed her just to be safe.

 

“Lionheart is on the prowl.” Luna crackled. Lexa grinned ear to ear. The woman of her dreams was a firecracker, and gave her a pretty big run for her money. Clarke poked her head up over the side of the railing, just to capture a glimpse of Lexa. She caught her, beaming bright. She needed Clarke to get her head back down, just in case anyone else spotted them, but she was grateful of the conformation that she wasn’t just a phantom ringing in her head, rather covering her from above. She put a fever inside Lexa unlike anyone ever could. 

 

“I know.” Lexa sighed, shaking her head in a half smile. She fidgeted with Clarke’s father’s watch around her wrist, checking the time. Clarke had given it to her their first night back together, reconciling their love. She told her it was to bring her luck and a promise that their time was never to run out again; that, this time, it was for keeps. There was no giving it back. Clarke needed her to have it.

 

Bellamy, Lincoln and Murphy should be coming out with Octavia any moment, transferring Emerson and Roan. The world was quiet; a little too quiet for Lexa’s liking. Anya finished setting up the traps, raking the long, police issue spike strip on the one entry way that they were sure Trikru would try to come. They left the other two ways open to triangulate where the hell Azgeda was going. Lexa pushed air from her lungs, watching Anya work, bouncing up and down, standing guard. 

 

SKY FORCE

 

“I should be down there…” Clarke impatiently growled at the head of FlouKru. She wore tight, black tactical pants with a padded, black, three-quarter sleeved shirt. Lexa wanted her in a vest, but there weren’t enough to go around. Luna promised she’d be safe under her protection, and a vest would only add more seconds lost to saving someone’s life by removing it before she could have the full extent of her arms. Lexa reluctantly agreed, as long as she was out of there. Clarke danced back and forth in the night air, draped in Lexa’s leather jacket, peering through the binoculars at her beloved. Luna sat on a metal box on the rooftop, pressing her fingers together in a steeple, breathing out hot air. She was an odd bird, floating around on the wings of a butterfly, but clumsily rocking back and forth. She silently hummed a tune to herself. Clarke glanced over at her. 

 

“Klark, we stick to the plan.” She trailed with Clarke’s pacing back and forth at the edge, watching the area, then checking her datapad for any suspicious activity on the cameras of the streets. Just a couple Sudans and a cop pulling over a drunk driver were all they noticed. Clarke paced back and forth harder. She desperately needed to be down there with Lexa. What if something happened and she couldn’t get there in time? What if it really was Titus, and they miscalculated something. She needed to be down there with her, and waiting on the rooftops, watching the Heda shove her hands in her pockets, freezing, was not high on her priority list.

 

“I know, but… I hate this waiting.” She admitted, pacing back and forth once more, more harsh than before. Clarke dug holes in the shingles, bouncing up and down in the cold air. Luna resumed humming a tune under her breath that Clarke didn’t recognise. She noticed a white corvette pull up toward Lexa and Anya. Panic befell the Commander of Death. She rushed toward the railing at the corner of the building, completely exposing their position. Clarke clutched on the rails, damn near flinging herself overtop to the three storey pavement below. Luna rushed up, catching her by the back, yanking her toward the site. Lexa pointed a finger towards one way, then shot her arm off another, giving the driver directions. Clarke exhaled, dancing on the balls of her feet. 

 

“Patience.” Luna checked her datapad, notably annoyed with the blonde. Clarke glared at her with narrow slits. Still no contact, and they were fifteen minutes from the transfer time. Everything was according to schedule. The waiting damn near destroyed the Commander of Death. Luna bunched her hair back, tieing it out of her face. Clarke yanked the holder from her wrist, drawing her blonde mop into a messy bun. 

 

“Easy for you to say.” Stray strands circled around her cheekbones. “She’s my girlfriend!”

 

“And she’s my sister.” Luna snapped back at her. Clarke was just as impatient as a seven year old on Christmas morn, waiting to see what Santa had brought them. “Have you such little faith in her?” Luna cocked an inquisitive brow.

 

“No…” Clarke whispered, clearing her throat. “I’ve just no faith in Roan and Nia.” She trailed her sky-blues up and down Luna’s relaxed stature. Clarke drew a knife, tossing it at her head. Luna caught it between her forefinger and middle, without even looking up from her datapad. “I also don’t trust you.” Clarke wanted to see if Lexa was right about Luna’s cat like reflexes. Luna could feel the air around her, knowing if something was off coming straight toward her, without actually knowing what it was. She could disarm a group of bumbling baboons with guns in less than sixty seconds, given she’d be in a small room. In a larger room, it was about a minute ten.

 

“You’d be stupid to when you don’t even know me.” She tossed the knife in the shingles of the rooftop. It buried deep down to the hilt. Clarke’s surprise pulsed through her ears, with her fixed gaze on the blade. “Don’t worry.” Luna glanced up to her from the datapad. “We both want the same things.” Clarke harshly gulped. “Commander Raccoon, White Knight, status report?” Luna clicked the comms in her ear, waiting for them to respond. The other line boomed with the clanging of boots, drumming against the echoes of the hallway from the inside of the holding cells.

 

“All clear.” Bellamy reported in. His booming voice bounced against Clarke’s eardrum, filling the void with the bass of his sound. “Escorting the prisoners to the convoy now. How’s the eyes in the sky?”

 

“Bellamy, we are okay.” Clarke responded, against all protocol. She noted Lexa’s sigh, relieved that she at least heard her voice. Her heart jolted in her chest with that soft, amused sigh she adored. Lexa was okay, and that’s what mattered most. The waiting and anticipating the worst drove her into ruin, maddening her panicked breath with every second she didn’t hear from her. She at least got some sort of confirmation from the Heda that all was still well. She needed it to be. She still hated this plan, no matter what anyone else had said. She needed the night to end and feel Lexa’s rough passion set her mind ablaze, as some sort of penance, proof, that all was okay. 

 

“Good to hear from you, Princess.” Clarke could hear Bellamy’s shit-eating grin through the comms. She needed to hear more than that, but it would do for now. They were on borrowed time at this point, and Trikru or Azgeda, or both could strike at any moment. She was at least thankful she could hear his voice. Her impatience, speaking to her kru without using their designated names broke all protocols. Luna scowled at her abrasiveness, which Clarke took for a child not getting her way to use the cool SuperHero names she decided to give. 

 

“Stick with the code names.” Her eyes narrowed into little slits, raising her chin to peer at Clarke down the bridge of her nose. Clarke blushed a little. It was the exact same way Lexa would stare down someone to intimidate them. She flung herself toward the railing once more, observing the Heda flip her knife in the air, catching it, while waiting for the transport to arrive. Luna couldn’t stop her. There was no sign of resistance; yet. Clarke wanted Lexa focused, but Lexa needed some sort of distraction. She looked up to the sky, toward the building Clarke was at. Clarke peered down below, curling her hands around her heart. Lexa raised her fist in no particular direction, signaling to Wanheda that she was seen. Luna noticed, yanking Clarke back toward her, regardless. It was the thought that she was seen that set her over the edge, snapping at Wanheda. “We don’t know who could be tapping into our frequency.” Clarke dramatically rolled her eyes, pressing the comms on her ear. 

 

“White Knight, Commander Raccoon, Scarlet Assassin, Abraham, TwoFace, please be careful. Lionheart out.” She harshly shoved a datapad in Luna’s chest, pushing her backward. Clarke knew the importance of using the code names, but if Trikru and Azgeda were going to attack, everyone knowing their names would be advisable for identifying the fallen and the wounded. Both factions were going to try to kill everyone either way, and their identities weren’t exactly secret from the world anymore.

 

“Better.” Luna set her fingers in her mouth, chewing on the corner of her nail. Clarke grinded her fangs, resuming her prowl. The misty air drenched the parties waiting in the cool night. They could get sick from being out there for too long, but they needed to. No one else was going to die anymore. She was going to make damn sure of it.

 

“TwoFace, huh…” Murphy’s crackle caused a creak to curl from Clarke’s cheesy lip. “Interesting.” Luna snickered. “No one would tell me my code name…”

 

“My idea…” Octavia groaned with her rasp. Boots from the tunnels echoed in Clarke’s ears. She used her binoculars, noting O’s head pop out of the entry way. “and, Claws?”

 

“Okay, that’s just mean.” Murphy raised his shoulders, annoyed with the group poking fun at his girlfriend’s hand deformity. It wasn’t right, and he wasn’t about to stand for it. Roan and Emerson were in Clarke’s line of sight. Luna glanced down at the datapad, concern creeping in her crevices.

 

“That’s always been my code name.” Emori shrugged at Clarke and Luna. Luna was too focused on what was going on in her mitts. Her brow flickered to life, noticing some abnormalities on the traffic cams. “Go ahead, Scarlet Assassin.”

 

“Quiet!” Luna sounded the alarm. “We’ve got movement on the Eastern end.” Three vehicles, one white van, and two Sudans spead fast around a corner, charging right toward the Heda’s position. The wheels audibly screeched on the pavement, reverberating through the echo of the night. Another two vehicles charged from the opposite end. Clarke caught it, her mouth dropped to the floor. It was time, and she wasn’t ready. But, she had to be.

 

“Get ready. West end is coming in too hot.” She noted the screeching tires through her binoculars, trailing the pattern with her datapad. Suddenly, Lexa’s chilling voice crackled in her ear, demanding her sister an order as Heda. 

 

“Moonriver, get Lionheart the hell out of here. It’s gonna get ugly.” 

 

“No way.” Pop, pop! The tires of the Trikru cars sunk into the road spikes Anya had laid waste to, screeching to a halt. They piled out of the vehicle, guns pointed toward the group, who ducked under cover.

 

“We need the eyes.” Luna barked. 

 

“Fine… Just keep her safe.” Clarke’s heart sank with Lexa’s concerned rasp."I’m up.” Rapid fire and retaliation fire swarmed the night with extreme prejudice. Muzzle flashes sizzled out of their discharging weapons. Clarke was helpless watching the firefight. Her heart sunk deep into her gut, observing Heda pop her head out of cover, bursting forth a few rounds, then back into cover while flying bullets ricocheted around her head.

 

GROUND FORCE

 

The three vehicles screeched to a halt on the opposite end, one flinging open the back of the white van doors, with a single shot bazooka. He checked his sights, pointing it directly at the group against the holding facility.

 

“GET THE FUCK DOWN!!!” Octavia bellowed. The Azgeda force fired wildly into the holding facility, exploding rubble around the entire area, raining smoke and debris over the group. Not all of Trikru ran out of their vehicles, while Azgeda stormed the area with stomping boots, bursting fire at the group. Roan ducked his head toward the ground, while Emerson elbowed Octavia in the face, slipping from her grasp, charging toward Trikru. An Azgeda agent popped a round in the bend of his knee, blowing it out in a mist of bone and lead. He jolted face first into the pavement, cracking open his skull on the hard rubble. 

 

Roan slowly crawled away toward his people, while Azgeda dragged Emerson back toward their side. All three factions fired wildly upon one another, intensely attempting to reak as many casualties as they possibly could. Muzzle flashes burst forth through the night sky, as well as flying arrows. Sirens wailed in the distance, flocking toward the area. One of the Azgeda agents reloaded their bazooka, aiming it toward the charging cruiser. Phewwwww, it flew, crashing directly into the engine of the vehicle, engulfing it instantly with a rain of shrapnel and fire. Lexa blinked her lids wildly at the carnage befalling one of her brothers or sisters in blue. She gritted her fangs, retaliating, shooting the agent square in the jaw, obliterating his face with her hot led. His lifeforce rained in the back of the van, which Roan slowly crept into, crawling on his stomach. He kicked the fresh body out, lying flat on his stomach for some sort of cover. Up ahead in the distance, sniper fire from FlouKru rained down upon the Trikru and Azgeda from behind their enemy lines. One by one, they dropped with ricocheting grey matter misting from their skulls. The agent holding Emerson hostage was hit, but close enough to Roan, who scooped up Emerson into the vehicle, slamming the door behind him. 

 

More Trikru piled out of their vehicles with popped tires. Lexa squinted her eyes to look her angel of death in the face. They practically bulged out of their sockets with a forlorn hope, trailing on the big burly man with a long beard, and crinkled laugh lines around his eyes. He blew out hot air, aiming his bow at her head. Lexa rolled for cover, while it whizzed past her. 

 

“Gustus?!” She cried out at her adopted father. “You?!” She peered out of her cover, rushing toward the van. Anya caught her partner charging toward him at a full speed.

 

“LEXA, GET DOWN!” Lexa lept through the air, Anya discharged her weapon under her long legs, capping a Trikru in the knee. He dropped to the ground. Anya shot once more once Lexa was out of the way, hitting him in the top of the head. The bullet traveled through his esophagus, down through his spine, and out his rear, lodging in a vehicle. 

 

Both Bellamy and Lincoln were close enough to Gustus. They charged together, leaping in the air, one with a left hook, the other with a right, and drove their fists down hard in his face with a hard crack. Gustus dropped to the pavement, slamming his chin hard into it, rattling his teeth. He spat out a broken tooth, drawing his blade, slicing Lincoln in the calf. He dropped to a knee. 

 

“LINCOLN!” Octavia dashed toward him, scooping him up by the vest, and dragged him to cover. Gustus gathered himself back to his feet, lingering back, sending Trikru and Azgeda alike toward his daughter, in attempts to kill her. Lexa scanned the area around her. There was no way out of this. She was stuck in the middle, exposed to the elements, and needing to get the hell behind some cover. The transfer van was her only saving grace. An Azgeda charged directly at her. She spun in a gracious ballet of death, slicking him in the chest, then throat with his own blade she disarmed him with one hand, casually capping him in the face with her .45 to finish him off. She left his knife dangling in his mangled body.

 

Two more Azgeda fired their irons at the Heda with a great flash of white smoke. The bullets grazed both sides of Lexa’s cheeks, chopping through her bronze mane of her flowing ponytail. Onyx waters trickled, following her lengthy jawline. She drew her blade from its holster around her thigh, firing her .45 into the chest of a Trikru scout, rushing after her. Lexa blindly charged at the two who shot at her, smashing one of them into the wall of the van. The Azgeda grunt left a sizable dent in the side of the vehicle. Lexa brought up her blade, tearing through his throat in a quick, slicing motion. Both of his hands reached up as the fountain spewed overtop the deep trench, drenching her in his crimson warpaint. 

 

The other gaped in horror. He lunged toward her, leaving himself exposed. Lexa batted away both of his hands, which were reaching for her throat, slashing his arm with the shiv. His elbow buckled, then she slashed at his chest. He stumbled backward. Lexa followed, dropping the blade from her soiled fingers. She grasped his gargantuan melon, digging her thumbs deep within the sockets of his eyes. She could feel the contents of his brain, mushed under her thumbnails. He cried out for mercy, but she twisted it with a crunching snap. His body fell, limp to the pavement.

 

The three other Azgeda and Trikru, cautiously, attempted to flank her. She scooped up one of their M9s, resting in her latest kill’s jack, grasping at her fallen .45, firing wildly through the air. Both bullets hit an Azgeda and a Trikru, center mass. They fell. The third charged toward Bellamy, instead of messing with the lover of death’s bloody kiss.

 

“Look alive, Blake!” Bellamy ducked at her warning. She shot the Trikru grunt in the back of the skull, spraying mists of crimson over the black haired man. He gleamed back up, staring at the Heda, appreciative of the save, covered in the other man’s sticky gew while the kill dropped like a sack of potatoes. Lexa turned her attention back to her adopted father. 

 

“You should have left it well alone, Heda.” He nodded toward one of his big guards, who came directly after Lexa in a furious sprint. She allotted him to come in close; too close. She stumbled on her heels at the slap from back of his palm. She spat from her busted lip at the man, who caught her by the waist. He squeezed her in his arms, attempting to snap her lower back. Lexa dropped her guns, flailing against his denial. She craned her neck up toward his, his eyes grew wide while she ripped through his artery with her razor teeth. He dropped her. The Heda spat his life back out at his face while he dropped to the pavement, hand over his bleeding neck. She craned her head up at her father, scooping up both of the pistols once again, the guard’s red dripping down her chin. She staggered toward the man like a stalking animal awaiting to pounce on it’s prey. She blindly fired one shot in the back of Gustus’s guard’s skull. He suddenly drew still, pooling against the pavement. Gustus drew his arrow back, holding it, ready to fire at his daughter.

 

SKY FORCE

 

Clarke clawed at the railing, watching Lexa battle one guy after another, while Azgeda picked up Emerson and Roan into their vehicle; Roan already inside the van, but Emerson finally in and pulling away. Luna set the trackers on them, capturing the license plate with her data pad. Emori clicked away at her laptop, making sure that everyone was taken well care of while Derrek peered down his scope, raining coverfire from the heavens. Shells sprang in little pings to Emori’s scout. 

 

“I’m coming up. Lexa has it under control. You’ll need me.” Anya called out in her mic amidst the rapid gunfire from machines, to a sudden stillness. Azgeda was getting away, leaving only Trikru behind, while Lexa waged her war, fearless, fighting like a devil, dressed like a woman. Clarke stared, wide eyed at her beloved in a way she never thought she’d ever see. Lexa went into full on Heda mode. She had never once actually seen Lexa fight in her full glory, but she saw her take out most of the Trikru forces in less than a minute, even without Derreks rain. She needed to be down there. She needed to save her before she did something stupid, and Gustus was something stupid. Gustus fired one arrow at her. Lexa ducked away. He fired another one. 

 

Clarke’s heart sunk deep into her chest. She wasn’t wearing a helmet. One wrong move and it would all be over. She had to get down there somehow without Luna noticing her slip away. Prying, intimidating eyes rested on her with heavy bags, unblinking against her, almost right in her face. There was no way she could escape from Luna, unnoticed. But, she had to get down there some way. Lexa was in trouble. She had to…

 

“CLARKE!” Luna cried out, chasing after her. Clarke just ran and kept running. She didn’t care who she had to push over, she had to get down there. “CLARKE!!!” Luna cried out, half chasing after her. There was no getting through to her. She had to save Lexa. It was the only way. She had to get down there, even if it killed her. “NO! GET BACK HERE!”

 

She busted down the door of the roof, flinging herself on the railing of the spiral staircase of the three stories, sliding down the sides. Once she met a stop at a pillar, she lept to the next, sliding down the opposite side, continuing this process until she reached the ground. She didn’t care what it took. She ran, starry eyed, and she didn’t stop.

 

GROUND FORCE

 

A piercing sharp pang of heat grasped Lexa’s back and lower rib, as an arrow submerged itself through her flesh, past the exposure of her vest, with a thunk. It was tipped with a silver head. The rod singed her insides like acid. An inhuman howl crippled from her bloody lip. Obsidian bloomed around the shaft with the glint of the head poking through the cloth. Lexa gazed down, trembling, sliding the vest to the side, and ripped her flesh wider with both of her salty forefingers and thumbs to glide the arrow through.

 

Her neck craned upward, grinding her teeth like mortar and pestle. Both veins on the side of her neck bulged, about to tear through her collar. When the head was completely out of her frame, Lexa snapped the jagged tip with harsh, quaking hands, which refused to stop quaking as she hunched over, sticking her salty palm back over the hole, leaning her head up toward the sky, then reverting back on her father. She studied Gustus’s saddened glow, holding the oozing tight, attempting to staunch the bleeding. There was no use. Sticky noir with fabric clung to the rim of her hole. She clenched her fist, furiously trembling in a restful panic, stumbling to her knee from the sudden blow. 

 

Lexa eyed her next move, while Gustus circled her back and forth, like a lion about to pounce on a gazelle. She needed to find something, fast, less she was going to die here. She refused to give up, especially while Clarke was sure to be watching. She couldn't leave her like this. Suddenly, a shiny piece of metal flashed in front of her face, while the taillights of the remaining Azgeda forces zoomed away. She lunged forward for the gun she dropped, laying on her stomach. Gustus piled overtop of her, unwavering in his strength, dropping his bow with a knife resting in his paw. Lexa flipped over quickly, shoving the barrel of the pistol between his eye socket and the bridge of his nose. He backed away slowly, raising his hands.

 

“This treaty with the vigilantes will be your death, Heda.” Her adopted dad moaned with the pressure of a .45 under his cheekbone. His apologetic eyes spoke a tale of a stern sadness. He didn’t want to, but orders were orders. He had to save her, and it was the only way to do so. She had already fallen in the hands of the enemy. Lexa jostled to her feet, hand over the bleeding torso. Her panting sunk deep into her ribcage, leaning over with the hot heat searing in the gaping wound. Gustus knocked the gun out of her fist, jabbing her with a left hook in the face, then shoved his thumb inside where the shaft of the arrow once resided. Lexa dropped to the ground with the sudden unrest, crying out. She crawled forward, spotting a knife, quickly picking it up.

 

“This treachery will cost you yours.” Lexa grunted, spitting obsidian, jolting to her feet with the blade in her hand. She spun around with the knife, clashing against his as sparks flew. He forced his might upon her, growing stronger as the blade neared her face. She clutched it with her opposite hand. Warm noir poured from the wound like a faucet, streaming down her forearm, collecting upon the pavement in little drips. She pushed back, jabbing him in the face with his hilt. He stumbled behind a few steps.

 

She lunged forward once more, spinning. Bellamy pulled his spare glock from his holster, shooting at him. He missed anything important, but grazed his upper thigh. Gustus buckled under his weight. Lexa punched him in the face once more, yanking his knife from his hand. She grasped both tightly, swinging around, spinning like a whirlwind gusting upon its helpless prey. Gustus bowed under one blade, then leaned back to avoid the next. Lexa came at him, about to catch him in the throat.

 

He grabbed both of her hands, squeezing hard. She let go as the bones in her wrist cracked, dislocating one of them. She snapped it back into place with a sharp shriek. Gustus gritted his teeth, regrouping his stance as Lexa cried out harder. Her grabbed the knives, stabbing her in the front. They pierced the soft part of the vest, pushing through to scratch her stomach. Her shirt underneath stained in a darkening onyx hue, mostly from the arrow. She stumbled toward the pavement, catching herself on the van. Nightblood smeared against the door like a fresh coat of paint.

 

Bellamy shot at Gustus again. Gustus used his impressive speed to smack the glock out of his claws with the knives. The bullet barely grazed his cheek. Touching the wound with wide eyes as gew stuck to his fingers, Gustus sauntered back over toward Lexa, about to plunge the knives within her throat to finish the job as she struggled to stand, using the wall of the van to prop herself up. Her vision fogged as she attempted to focus her eyes on her father. Bellamy slid her the glock against the hard pavement. Lexa caught it, shoving it in his chest, capping his shoulder in a quick pop. He dropped to a knee in his lame.

 

He gritted his teeth. Gasping, Lexa slowly pulled herself off of the pavement grinding her fangs as she drew closer to Gustus. She spat the noir saliva in his face, splashing his scowl like a Jackson Pollock. She shoved the Glock further in between his nose, wavering. Bellamy bolted toward the Heda, heaving with a pistol he picked up off the ground, pointed toward his head. Lexa dropped hers. She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t kill her father, despite everything. Gustus didn’t even fight it. He gifted Lexa the blade near where he dwelled, curling it around her fingertips. 

 

“Ste yug.” He nodded, telling her it was okay. He knew he had lost, and he was dead either way, should he return. Lexa parted her lips. He drew her sharp hand up toward his neck. Lexa was trembling, harder than she ever had before; even harder than when Clarke had kissed her for the first time. 

 

“Yu gonplei ste odon.” She plunged the knife into Gustus’s neck, twisting and turning the blade around his throat, carving away like a Christmas turkey. His body contorted with the strain of it. She made it as quick as possible, witnessing the light drain from his eyes. Lexa held on, tears streaming down her long face, mudding with the running black waters of her cheeks. She was trembling like an earthquake, threatening to split the earth in two. 

 

“Lexa, let go.” Bellamy whispered in her ear. Gustus’s life stained her silky hands. Bellamy didn’t even care that Emerson and Roan jumped in the back of a speeding vehicle.That part went according to plan, and Lexa was sure that Luna was tracking them, triangulating their position. Bellamy needed to make sure that his battle buddy could calm down and finish the mission, while she was tainted with the taste of war. He had never seen her like this. He was both impressed and frightened of her power. She just couldn’t believe it. Her adopted father betrayed her. She stood overtop of Gustus’s lifeless body, staring up at the sky, letting the rains wash over her. Bellamy held onto her shoulder, allowing her to fall apart. Everyone she ever trusted betrayed her, left, or died. She couldn’t hold onto herself. She couldn’t hold onto anything.

 

Small patters of feet stomped in a rushing roar toward the Heda. Lexa stepped over her father’s body, roaming toward the vehicle in her kingdom come of bloody carnage. She didn’t bother to turn toward the noise, charging toward her, huffing. Lexa unclasped her vest, relieving the pressures from the wounds, lightly oozing from her through and through. Clarke jolted on her back, clinging hard against her, burying her face between the Heda’s shoulderblades. She wrapped her arms around as tight as she possibly could. Bellamy pressed his mouth in a grimace. He knew his job was done, now that Clarke was there. But, their fight was not yet over. Clarke couldn't contain herself. She almost watched her beloved die. She curled her fists in the fabric, pulling it tight around Lexa’s torso, scrunching her face in her back, letting her tears fall. Lexa crossed her arm over her body, holding onto Clarke’s hand, staring at the rain dripping all around, washing away the blood.

 

“Lionheart, Commander Raccoon, Titus spotted. He’s following the Azgeda Convoy.” Emori’s voice broke the tension. Lexa nodded to herself while Bellamy radioed back that they caught it. He left to check his sister, Lincoln, Murphy and Derrek, who followed after Clarke, per Luna’s orders. 

 

Lexa lifted Clarke’s clasp from her arms, walking forward. Clarke clung on tighter. Lexa shook her head, scrunching her hands around Clarke’s clawing talons. She fought against her denial. Clarke wouldn’t budge. She held on for dear life, like she was on the top of a moving semi down the highway. She wasn’t going to let go for any reason, and Lexa had to give a pretty damn good reason for her to even consider it. There were none. Lexa thrashed against Clarke, who just kept squeezing tighter. She had to leave. Her fight was not yet over. 

 

“Let me go.” Lexa whimpered against Clarke’s denial. She needed to leave, to end this. Titus was waiting, and it was a two for one. She could finally end this damn war, but she needed to do it alone. She wasn’t going to bring Clarke, nor did she have any intention of letting her follow. Even if it killed her, come hell or high water, she needed Wanheda to just let go.

 

“No.” Clarke’s voice was muffled in her back, vibrating the Heda with her warmth. Nothing was ever going to get her to release Lexa. She was injured, that much was clear, and she had to just kill her father. Clarke knew the significance of losing a father, even if that father wasn’t really fatherly. He chose Lexa. Someone actually chose the hard to love girl, and gave her life and a home, free to chose and just be Heda, despite telling her to let Clarke go. She couldn’t imagine what hell Lexa was going through, but they were going to do it together. No matter what, Clarke vowed they were in this together. 

 

“Clarke, you need to let me go.” Lexa begged. She didn’t think she could hold on any tighter. She felt the silent sobs sink into her back with the hot salty tears crashing waves into her. She didn’t know how the hell she could leave this, leave her here, but at least she’d be safe. She just needed her safe. Lexa threw her head toward the sky, resting the back on the top of Clarke’s. “Clarke…”

 

“If you want me to stop, you’ll have to kill me.” Lexa froze, dead in her tracks. She couldn’t bear it. That thought rang through her mind, knowing that if she came, she would be deemed collateral, and killed anyway. Letting her go was the only way to save her, and she wasn’t about to give up on Wanheda’s safety. As long as she’s still breathing, that was all that mattered most to her. She fought so they could have a better future. If she died, well at least Clarke was okay. Clarke just was so damn pigheaded and stubborn, always crying to get something she wanted; and, she wanted Lexa. There was no way in hell she was going to let her go alone. If Lexa really thought that, in Clarke’s mind, she was a damn fool.

 

“I’m GOING to get you killed if you come with me.” Lexa begged her, exasperated. She panted harder than she had ever panted before, fighting back the floods. She didn’t want to go, but she had to. She knew she promised to never leave again, but this time it was different. It wasn’t running from her. It was protecting her, living up to another promise that she would honor and support her, even if it took her. “Please. Just let go of me.” 

 

“I’m not letting you go alone!” Clarke pressed her lips into Lexa’s back, pulsating tingles down her electrified spine. Clarke hadn’t noticed her liquid oozing out onto her shirt. The padding absorbed the gew. Lexa needed medical attention, and fast, just to close the holes. She was still standing, so she knew nothing important was hit. Just a simple cauterization would do the trick. Lexa clutched hold of Clarke’s hand, digging her fingers through Clarke’s. She gasped, gulping for air, sobbing in the Heda’s back. She couldn’t lose her. Not again. She couldn’t bear to hear that she had two in the chest, or one between the eyes because of Trikru or Azgeda, or whoever the hell took her. 

 

“And, I’m not letting you march to your death.”

 

“You think I’m letting you?” Clarke held on tighter. Lexa kept her head craned to the sky. “Please, Lexa, don’t do this!” Clarke curled deeper into her, threatening to fuse into her as one. Not even the cool, misty air could simmer the tension, or their heat for that matter. “You face him alone, you will die!”

 

“Then the next Commander will protect you.”

“I don’t want the next Commander.” Lexa shook her skull. She couldn’t hear this. Hearing Clarke say it would only make it that much harder. Every bone in her body screamed out in a harrowing plea for her not to say those three words that would make leaving damn near impossible. “I want you.”

 

“Beja, Hodnes…” She said them. Lexa couldn’t believe she struck such a low blow, but Clarke was desperate. She couldn’t allow this. Lexa sobbed off of her lip, as they both knew what was about to be done. They both knew that Lexa was going to a place where Clarke couldn’t follow, but she was going to try. No matter what, she’d find a way. She had to. “Just let go.” 

 

“No!” Clarke snapped. “I’m never letting go again.” She buried her face deeper in the Heda’s back, between her shoulderblades. Lexa didn’t want to hurt her, but she was running out of time. “I’m never letting you go.” Clarke sobbed in her back even harder than before. Lexa raised a hand to her mouth, neck stretched toward the sky. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this; especially to Clarke

“Ai hod yu in.-I love you.-” She whispered under her breath. Clarke pulled her face away, shaking her head, no. She had the feeling she knew what Lexa was about to do. She held on as tight as she could. “Liedon. -Good-bye.-” Lexa forcibly yanked herself away from Clarke’s embrace, smacking her love away with a callous abandon, tears streaming down her long cheekbones, slipping through Clarke’s searching reach. Clarke glanced down at her fingertips, where Lexa once was. Suddenly, she noticed something strange on her shirt. It was a bloom of onyx. 

“L-Lexa?” She called out, dabbing her middle finger in the gew, bringing it up to her face. Lexa was hit, and there was nothing Clarke could do to save her, not with her charging off the way she was. She disappeared from view. Panic rose in Wanheda, quaking in the night, completely alone and terrified. Even though her friends were in the close proximity, the only one who mattered most to her slipped from her fingertips, like sand. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere anymore… She didn’t even get to touch her face, or kiss her good-bye. Lexa was a phantom, and Clarke had to find her. She wasn’t going to give up until she was safe. “LEXA!!!” Lexa could hear her shriek from a block away from her sprint. Tears rained down her long face, obscuring her vision in the already bleak night. She halted, catching her breath from the sprint, running to meet her sister, turning back in Clarke’s direction. She squeezed the corners of her ducts with her forefinger and thumb. 

 

“Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim-may we meet again-.”

 

SKY FORCE

 

Luna rested upon a warm, metal box vent, with one knee propped up, stroking a knife, while the other dangled over the side, on a barren rooftop. She was alone, meticulously waiting for the little one, heaving up the steps, her vision blurring with each press. Luna kicked her foot against the metal in bass filled booming rattles. A medkit sat by her side for any injuries that Lexa may have accumulated down in the field. Luna gazed up at the sky, washing away the sweat of her brow from the gladiatorial show she just observed, while her sister was her champion. 

 

Lexa was always a rough and tumble girl, never afraid to get her hands dirty. She sure as hell gave Luna a run for her money, meeting her match with a stalemate every time they sparred. Luna’s jaw cracked a smile, noting the metal steps. Lexa broke open the door with a thud, slamming her palm flat against it. Residue of Nightblood smeared the surface. She slipped, lunging forward, catching herself from toppling over. She deeply heaved, pausing a moment, then sauntered toward her sister.

 

“Took you long enough.” Luna rolled the tip of the knife in her index finger. She stared her down the crook of her excited brow. Lexa pressed her mouth, flashing a quick half grin, floating toward the vent, setting the upper bump of her back against it. She crossed her legs and arms, partially to hold onto the aggravating hole, spewing more of her sticky plasma in a slow trickle.

 

“I had to see about a girl.”

 

“Clarke?” Lexa’s face lit up like a fresh light bulb, then fell grim with the realization she may not get the chance to see her again; to taste those lips she adored. Luna read her like a book, but the pages were frayed, and the ink spattered. “I like her. Annoying and clingy, but I like her.”

 

“I thought you would.” Lexa flashed a quick grin, but it fell as fast as it came. She couldn't shake that she didn’t kiss her goodbye into the night. But, she knew if she did, she wouldn’t have been able to leave. Clarke already made it damn near impossible to. She pushed herself off of the metal box, clearing her mind of the pain that befell her, focusing more on the matters at hand. 

 

“Any word from team 2? Anya?” Luna picked up her datapad, scanning the contents for any activity from the few. Anya and Emori had stayed on their original position while Luna waited for Lexa at their designated rendezvous point. She maintained complete radio silence, making damn sure no one could track her and Lexa down on their crusade. They changed their frequency to a muddied one, using signal jammers, courtesy of Raven’s quick fix.

 

“No. Just Clarke.” Lexa pressed her mouth, moving her hand from her hole, peering at the black that came from it. Luna studied her, trailing from her black tips to her snarling grunt. 

 

“Lexa, you’re bleeding?” Luna stated the obvious. Lexa wanted to burst out laughing, screaming “you don’t say”, but she held her tongue, rolling her eyes instead. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore, just get it over with and close the damn holes. 

 

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Lexa glanced toward her quaking hand, studying the amount of pouring blood. She felt woozy. Luna drew two long, hypodermic needles attached to two tubes and a small vial connecting them from the medkit, squirting rubbing alcohol on a cotton swab. 

 

“He DID hit you… Gustus.” Luna whispered, rolling up her sleeve. She tied an elastic tourniquet around her upper arm with her teeth, sinking a needle deep in her vein. Lexa rolled up her sleeve, to which Luna tied the same tourniquet around her upper arm, finding the vein, and sinking the needle in. She released the valves, letting the Nightblood trickle in the tube, pouring into Lexa. 

 

“Clarke pack that thing?” Lexa pointed toward the quick transfusion field kit, changing the subject. Luna nodded, appreciative of her girlfriend. 

 

“Like I said, you finally picked the smart one.” Lexa rolled her eyes at her sister’s smug, tooth filled grin. “I know we're supposed to stay still during this transfusion thing, like what Clarke was briefing me on, but we don’t have much time.”

 

“Let’s get on with it, shall we?” Lexa pointed toward the kit sitting next to her. Luna strained, letting her arm pumping blood in Lexa’s core to combat the loss, while rummaging through the medkit to find the EpiPen Clarke had told her that would reduce blood loss from instant traumas. She held it tight in her hands, allowing the blood to pump. She couldn’t take the shot, but left the transfusion go for a few more seconds, buying some time. A full on transfusion would be needed, but at least Lexa wouldn’t be as woozy. She needed her to have a clear head, and Lexa couldn’t agree more. 

 

“Right.” Luna passed Lexa a lighter and a knife, along with a cigarette. Lexa lit up the smoke, sucking the fire of the demon into her lungs, letting it swirl around, before gently blowing it out. Luna shut off the valves, removing the needle from her arm. The rest of the blood circulated back into Lexa’s body, absorbing like a sponge. “This may sting.” Luna popped a cap to an EpiPen, jamming it deep into Lexa’s hip, while Lexa struck the zippo, fanning the flame under the stainless steel. 

 

The epinephrine kickstarted her heart, coagulating the blood platelets, diluting the loss to less than fifty percent of the trickle. Lexa’s skull throbbed, pulsating the beats of her heart with the jittery shake of the concentrated adrenaline. She could taste alcohol on her breath, without even drinking a drop. Luna needed her spirit to stay right where it was, and she opened up the medkit once more, pulling out a flair. Lexa’s eyes widened, stretching from the length of the wand to her sister. “Okay, I know this one will hurt. Need something to bite down on?”

 

“I’m not that fucking weak, Luna.” Lexa suked in another drag, while Luna hoisted up her shirt. She broke the tip of the flair, illuminating the rooftop in the darkness, drawing it near Lexa’s back. She sizzled it into her burning flesh, overtop of the gaping arrow hole. Rolls of smoke wafted off of her, closing one of the two. The faint, nauseating aroma of spoiled beef, sizzling in a pan lingered through the air. Luna dumped a small vial of alcohol on a rag, slathering it on top of the entry wound. Lexa grinded her fangs, shaking her fists deep in the zippo, still heating the knife into a red hot poker. 

 

Lexa set the heat on the flat of the blade overtop of her hand, cauterizing that as well. She blew out huffs of air, the veins in her neck pulsed out of her collar, crying out all forms of obscenities, both in English and Trigedasleng under her breath. There was only one more hole that needed to be closed, and it was in the softest of tissue. Luna eyed her sister, who stood erect through it all. Luna was unable to move. She couldn’t believe her impeccable strength. Lexa didn’t know if it was the EpiPen, or the sense of duty that kept her going, but she had to close this last hole. 

 

“Give me that thing.” She snatched the flair from Luna’s paws, curling her singed hand overtop of it, lifting her shirt in the front, assessing the hole. She stretched the skin around, which tore away at the clotting clumps. Her nose crinkled, wavering in waves. More onyx spewed forth, but in a slow flowing trickle. Lexa craned her head all the way back toward the sky, blowing out short bursts of air like a woman in labor, steading her mind for the sudden stinging burn. She pressed the tip to the most sensitive, soft tissue on her side, burning it in deep. Pins and needles dipped deep into her, jabbing over and over with the inferno waging wars, slowly closing the gap. Iron scented rotten meat burned in the wake of her closing hole. She grabbed the rag from Luna’s mitts, drenching it overtop with the sudden stinging unrest of the sterilization. Her fists quaked, huffing and heaving, while her vision faded in and out. It had to be done. The flair sizzled out, and she leaned on the metal vent, catching her breath. 

 

“Are you good?” Luna questioned if she was done, but not how she was doing. Lexa nodded, not saying a damn word. She needed to talk fast, and get the job over with. Lexa didn’t make that task easy, but she was ready. She had to be. Luna pulled a stretch of gauze and surgical tape from the medkit where she took the EpiPen from, pressing it against Lexa’s back. “We do this my way. We stick to the shadow, climb on the rooftops, then hit Titus where it hurts.” Lexa wrapped gauze around her hand, and then stretched it against her front with quaking fingers.

 

“Right.” She ripped the last piece of surgical tape with her teeth, securing it to her body over the wound. Clarke would have to dress it later, if she made it out alive. So far, she’d been lucky. She couldn’t imagine what hell she put her through. Lexa shook the lingering thought from her mind. Heda had a job, and Heda needed to do what Heda does best; fight for her people. 

 

“You think you can keep up?” Luna pointed to Lexa’s wounds with her forefinger and thumb, genuinely concerned about her wellbeing, which was a new concept for Lexa. 

 

“I know I can.” Lexa straightened herself, fighting against the pain. The epinephrine coursed deep through her veins, dancing on the edge of glory and anticipation. She was more than ready. “You forget one thing, Ai Laik Heda.”

 

“So full of yourself, even now.” Luna coughed amused. “Come on.” Lexa peered over the edge of the building toward Clarke. Lincoln was loaded up in the back of a medical transport, Octavia staying behind with Murphy, Clarke and Derrek. Clarke pointed toward the wounded, which Lexa could just hear her screaming orders to get them out of there and pick up the dead later. 

 

Suddenly, screeches from two vans scuttled toward the group on the ground. Lexa’s heart sank. She didn’t anticipate more troops. And, Clarke was left helpless with the wounded, against, notably, Azgeda forces. The main correspondent of the forces Lexa recognized from anywhere. It was Roan. She wondered why the hell he was back on the scene, but then it all clicked. He was there to inflict as much damage as he possibly could, and even coax the Heda out of hiding. He pulled up right next to Clarke, who was completely caught off guard. 

 

“Clarke?!” Lexa pressed the comms in her ear, to which Luna knocked her hand away, keeping the radio silence. She needed to get down there. She needed to fight, but it would be too late by the time she met up with the ground forces. Luna held her back, to her sudden surprise of Roan and another guard charging toward Clarke. They roughly yanked her up around the under of her arms, dragging her toward the empty van, after decking her in the face to distort her senses, while the other Azgeda forces shot their tranquilizers in the rest of the kru, dropping their surprise one by one, collapsing to the pavement. “CLARKE! NO!!!” Roan beamed up at the rooftops, scanning them for Lexa. 

 

She needed to get down there. She didn’t care about the agony ripping away from the sudden fresh flesh burnt from the cauterization. Clarke was in serious trouble, and she left her there to that fate. She left her to get kidnapped. She left her…

 

“LEXA! WAIT!!!” Luna trailed after her, flinging herself off the roof in a summersault, spinning on her shoulder toward the Heda, leaping through the night sky, like a stunt team of serious parkour experts. Lexa kept huffing, scaling down the side of the building as quick as she could with amazing upper body strength. She stumbled, tumbling a storey toward the pavement, but caught herself on the bars of a window, resting her foot against the brick. She had to get to Clarke. Lexa’s boots hit the pavement, and she took off sprinting. It was a futile attempt. The van drove away with her girlfriend, and she didn’t know where the hell where. Luna stopped just behind her, stomping on the pavement below, following after her sister. Lexa wavered, watching the van fly down the road. She couldn’t get there in time. 

 

Lexa turned back around, climbing up a drainpipe. If she couldn’t run after them, she sure as hell was going to leap rooftop to rooftop, just to get to her. There was no place Clarke would go that Lexa wouldn’t follow, especially if it was to save her. Luna yanked her back down by the collar of the neck, and Lexa caught herself to her feet. 

 

“Lexa, we will find her. We know where they are going. WE have to be smart about this.”

 

“Smart…” Lexa dashed her head over Luna’s shoulder, raising her open palm, pointing down the area where they traveled. “Luna, that’s my girlfriend! Those are our people! I’m going to get them back!”

 

“We will!” Luna denied her. “Be mindful of your teachings, little one.” 

 

AZGEDA: 30 MINUTES LATER

 

Burlap. The woodsy, yet stored clothes aroma of it filled Clarke’s nostrils while small light peeked through the tiny crossing holes. Sniffles, hushed whispers and screams rang out through the enclosed area, while rough hands held her wrists, tied with rope behind her back. Clarke marched, one by one, two by two, until she couldn’t figure out how many boots joined her trudging down a long stretch, that seemed to go forever. Muffled cries from Octavia and Murphy behind a banging window looped like ‘Let it Snow’ on the Christmas Station on the radio. 

 

Another voice rang out, it was deeper than the others, booming through the barricade she could not yet see. Another did the same. It was Bellamy and Derrek. She heard one name; Raven. Oh shit!, she thought while rough hands quaked, grasping her frame, striking her with each step. Clarke muffled under the burlap sack overtop of her head, but could not utter any words with a sopping wet, cold cloth gag resided in her mouth. Saliva dribbled down her chin from the attempted speech.

 

“Keep quiet.” Roan breathed into Clarke’s ear. “I don’t want to kill you.” He charged her in deeper through this area. She was sure she passed through a door. The echoes of the acoustics in that room were intensified, and a clasping of a door clattered around. Roan scooted a chair towards the back of her thighs, pushing her into it, while securing her hands to a rope. A jabbing, single sharp prod, like a poker, pressed into her back, making her even more uncomfortable. But, she pushed her fingers against the nimble edge, spotting some sort of bump she could use to split the twine. It would just take a minute, and she figured she had some time, if she was in a holding cell. 

 

Roan suddenly pulled the bag from over her eyes, setting her directly in front of Nia and Titus, standing by the window in their kingdom come. Nia had piercing sharp, light blue eyes, which cut lines deep into her soul. She had the story of death in them, and Clarke could tell that fear abandoned her long, long ago. Roan only looked like his mother in certain aspects, including the family jaw and brow. He had eyes like his father, Clarke was sure of it. Titus wore the garb of a monk, dark robes up around his throat. He stood with his hands directly behind his back. Clarke only recognized him from Lexa’s description of his hieroglyphic-like tattoos around his bald head. Roan removed her gag. 

“YOU!” Clarke didn’t care about her situation. She saw the guy who shot Lexa… Who killed Lexa, more than once and she had to revive her; the man who betrayed her. She charged, hard, damn near dislocating her shoulders in her sudden dash. She thrashed like a rabid animal, kicking and flailing her legs in the air to the denial.

 

“Clarke!” Bellamy bellowed through the glass to warn her. Roan harshly pushed her back into the chair before she could break anything, holding a blade to her throat. Clarke did not waver. She merely glanced up to her captor, who nodded toward the chamber that her friends were in. There was a lingering fog within the air of a plexiglass holding cell. Octavia held her neck, and Murphy paced back and forth. A small hiss echoed through the area. Gas. They were pumping gas in her friends’ cell. Clarke pressed her throat into the blade Roan held against it, demonstrating her strength. All sense of rationality evaporated from her sky-blues, and nothing but hate and pure, psychotic fearlessness remained.

 

“I don’t know who you are.” Titus had a thick Trikru accent to his aged rasp. “What quarrel have you with me?” He raised his long jaw with slightly crooked yellow teeth flashing at the wild puma, caged by the hunters, crossing his arms. 

 

“She’s the Heda’s new pet.” Roan cocked his head to the side, speaking for Clarke. She kept the same brazen fire, burning so bright that the contents of the room may burst under the heated pressure. She may have been captured, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let her people suffer any further. 

 

“Excellent work, Roan.” Nia sheepishly grinned, puffing her chest. She twisted her ring around on her finger, letting the diamond hit one side to the next. “You’ve made me proud.” Roan nodded toward her. Clarke glanced toward the group, which Raven was screaming inaudible words, which could only be taken as obscenities at their captors. Bellamy banged harder on the glass with a sudden hissing increasing in strength, while they leaned against the cell walls. 

“Shof op!” Nia sneered. “You will speak only when spoken to.” 

 

“Please, don’t hurt them.” Clarke begged, dropping her strong facade. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Her roommates were being suffocated in a damn glass chamber, and she was watching them slowly starved of oxygen, which could cause permanent brain damage, and/or worse; their death. 

 

“Why would I do a thing like that?” Nia drew a knife from her pocket, flipping the blade up with her thumb. She stroked it with nimble fingers in an aggressive power play, hoping to intimidate Wanheda. “The bitch Lexa isn’t here yet to watch you all suffer.” 

 

“Let me handle her, she is my responsibility.” Titus leaned in close to Nia, holding her at the shoulder, close enough to press his lip against her ear. He wasn’t exactly silent about the matter. Clarke bounced her fire from one gang leader to the next, whelmed by the knowledge they were now in leagues. Just before, they would have killed each other if they were ever given the chance, but now, they acted like old lovers, trying to figure out what the hell to do with their brat kid, who was drug home by the police in the middle of the knight. 

 

“Enough!” Nia waved him off. Titus dropped his hand to the side, backing up, bowing. He then rested both of them at his stomach, fidgeting with his nails, without missing a beat, staring at them. Clarke finally had the gall to state the obvious. 

 

“Since when have you taken orders from Azgeda?” She slowly twisted the twine around the prodding rod, scraping every piece of the fiber into the wake of it. She needed to get free and kill them as quick as possible. There was no way around it. She had to save her people, and make damn sure that Titus did not leave, so that Lexa could have her pound of flesh. Blood must have blood.

 

“Since your master stole from us our best source of income.” Nia spat fire at the girl. Clarke was helpless, but she was not hopeless. She just needed to bide Lexa enough time to get there. She was sure she would play it smart, that she would rescue everyone somehow. She was under the Commander’s protection, and under that protection, she was as fearless as an artist on an acid trip, painting everything they saw without having a freakout. 

 

“IF you hurt them…”

 

“We’ve no intention on hurting them, girl.” Titus snapped at her, like she had just insulted his ancestors and his mother at the exact same time. Clarke was done with him. She wondered why the hell Lexa didn’t kill him a long time ago, but he was her foster father, and her teacher. It couldn't have been easy on her, and she would have to be a hardass to deal with him. Clarke puffed out her chest. 

 

“It’s Wanheda to you.” Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits, staring at the man. 

 

“W-wanheda?” Titus floundered a few steps back. Nia let the words sink into her sin, still stroking the knife. Titus dragged his hawkish gaze toward the Queen of Azgeda nullifying the surprise dipped in chocolate, presented like a delicious array of knowledge.

 

“Wanheda and Heda, mortal enemies joining forces at long last to stop a great war.” Nia let the words roll off her tongue, gazing past the woman in a vat of the universe. “How poetic... “ Nia smacked her lips, her breath quickened in her excitement. “Now that you’ve given me what I want.” She backhanded Clarke in the face as quick as she could. Clarke didn’t even see it coming. Her ring caught on Clarke’s lip, splitting it in two. Sudden iron, sticky plasma filled her mouth, dribbling down her chin. Clarke let it fill in her awaiting mouth for a moment, then released a spritz of the gew in her eyes, blinding her. Nia scrunched her face, wiping the smearing blood from her vision. 

 

“What’s that?” Clarke narrowed her sights on the woman who leaned in close, clasping her claws around the arm rest of the broken chair. Clarke dug away at the ropes, fraying some of the twine. It still wasn’t enough. 

 

“Ultimate power. Starting with your death.” 

 

“Queen Nia, please!” Titus begged her, which caught Clarke off guard. She didn’t know if he was trying to protect her or if he was just buying Lexa some time, knowing her wrath after Aden and Costia. Either way, Clarke didn’t let the fear of the threat dictate her stern, brazen stare, like she had a gun pointed to Nia’s head with all the power. That fear mutated into loathing; a pure rage swimming from her gut to the surface, threatening to tear him and everyone in the room apart if she dare touch her friends, or even lays one gentle finger on Lexa. 

 

“Oh, first we're gonna kill your friends, while you watch.” She punched Clarke square in the face. Her eye puffed, sudden blackness pooling to the surface with a rosing red. ”Break the mighty Wanheda.” Clarke spat to the side of her chair, careful not to anger Nia again for another beating. “Then, we are gonna enjoy the life drain from that bitch in leather’s eyes as she’s helpless to do anything while we kill you.” She grabbed Clarke by the back of the head, dragging her face toward the floor, then jabbed her knee up into her it, cracking her nose. Crimson waters spewed forth from it. Nia grabbed her by the bridge, yanking back down to reset the break. Clarke cried out with throes of affliction. Nia pressed her lips, crossing her arms. “Start with the boy.”

 

“Which one?” Roan sighed. Clarke’s alarm drew fast around her, rolling in her seat, while fraying the rope as quick, yet unnoticed, as she could. 

 

“The bearded pig.” The group in the plexiglass, wheezing from the low oxygen, all turned toward Derrek. He puffed out his chest. He wasn’t going out without a fight. “He’s taken many of our men already.”

 

“Please, you don’t have to do this!” Clarke cried out. Two guards released Derrek from the holding cell. He was disoriented from the oxygen deprivation. The wafting aroma of natural gas filled Clarke’s nostrils. Her concern crept ever wider, broadening in the grand scheme of things. 

 

“No, I don’t. But I want to.” A sadistic smile crept upon the creature’s snarl. 

 

“PLEASE!” Clarke bellowed, begging in the face of his ultimate demise. Derrek did not give up so easily, however. He overpowered one of the guards, thrusting his body back into the wall with a thud. It shook the entire room. The guard wrapped his hands around his throat, beginning to squeeze tight, cutting off more oxygen. But, Derrek batted them away, motioning his arms counterclockwise around the guard’s elbows, reaching his fingers up to his face, and shoving his sharp thumbs into the guard’s eye socket. Blood oozed from the holes, dripping down his face. He sunk to the floor, curling his quaking fingers overtop his blindness, screaming in harrowing agony. Derrek changed directions, charging toward the other guard, after drawing a blade from the flailing one’s jack, who was rocking back and forth on his back. 

 

Octavia, Bellamy, Murphy, Raven and Clarke were helpless to aid him, trapped behind glass and bound in a chair, while he charged, staggering toward the other guard. Clarke desperately wanted to save him. She couldn’t sacrifice anymore of her people, and as a doctor, the overwhelming desire to help, even the Azgeda, took the full force of her fragile strength. The guard jolted his pistol from its holster, but it was ultimately knocked out of his hands by Derrek’s fast reflexes, pushing the weapon back, discharging twice into the ceiling, then once more into his face, obliterating his jaw with the close, point blank range. Spatter of graymatter painted the ceiling. 

 

Roan rolled his eyes, yanking his pistol from his upper thigh, capping Derrek, quickly, in the soft of his knee. His iron and knife slid from his hands with the sudden unrest and collapse to the floor, while bone frayed out of the hole, shattering his kneecap. Roan popped the other guard in the face, ending his suffering, then set his pistol back into his holster, curling his hands around the blade Derrek had dropped at his boot. Roan grabbed him by the rat tail, dragging him to his blown out knee, dripping in a pool on the floor, then gently grazed the blade against his throat, careful not to spatter the crimson anywhere. But, it was deep. The blunt of the blade barely glinted in the light. 

 

“STOP!!!” Clarke gaped fixedly upon the horrendous sight. Derrek’s life force coughed in his throat, deep enough to expose the bone of his spinal chord, and his gulping trachea, balancing up and down for air, while Roan pulled it back. He pushed Derrek over, stomping his boot with his shoulder, flinging the drops of blood off of his knife, spattering Clarke in the face with it. She blinked wildly, frozen in fear, while Derrek twitched, violently, to a stillness. His light faded from his clouded eyes. Clarke couldn’t look anywhere else but on Derrek. They were going to die there. They were all going to die, she just knew it, but she had faith Lexa would come. She just hoped it wasn’t going to be too late.

 

“Stop?” Nia inched closer to the quaking girl with wide, unblinking sky-blues, clutching the armrest of her chair. Clarke could feel her hot breath on her face, and her gracious scowl crinkle into a satisfied smirk. She knew Nia desperately wanted to break the girl, and the thought of that happening to all of her friends shown some light on the situation. It could happen... “But Wanheda, we are only just beginning!”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Clarke and her friends were abducted, and Derrek, Luna's Husband, was brutally slain by Nia, Lexa finally reaches Azgeda's hiding spot. What will happen next?
> 
> Will she be able to save Clarke?
> 
> Will Clarke be able to save everyone?
> 
> Find out more in Only You.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!!!!  
>  GRAPHIC CONTENT  
> !!!!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Hey guys, sorry I haven't posted in a while. I had finals, which were soul sucking, so I hope this stacks up with chapter 15 and that I didn't completely lose you guys. Anyway, Happy Holidays, Holy Shit, here comes the next chapter! Brace yourselves!!!!

CHAPTER 16  
Lexa

 

“They have to be around here!” Lexa came to a screeching halt, ducking behind a corner of a tall building. She had boots on the ground for the first time, trailing behind the convoy, which took Clarke and the others. Lexa’s heart pounded, throbbing against the pulse of her neck, centering the booms in her ears. It expanded in little, audible thunks. “They couldn’t have gone much further.” She couldn’t handle any more waiting, but she had to be smart. If she got herself killed, there was no way in hell she would be able to help Clarke. Clarke would never let her hear the end of it either, while her spirit protected the woman.

“Relax.” Luna huffed behind her, ducking under the cover of a van, a few spaces between the two for a better look of the land. Lexa rushed the area faster than Luna could keep up. Her husband was taken too, but Lexa figured she had more faith in him to fight and work their way out of the situation. Clarke was a damn good medic, but rubbish in a fight. Before their split, Lexa sparred with her in the ring, while Clarke held protective pads. She attempted to teach the good doctor to defend herself, however, she was as hopeless as a string bean to a fork. “We will find her.”

“Relax?!” Lexa scoffed with a grimace. “You don’t get to tell me to relax! You should have gotten her out!” She growled a warning, but Clarke wouldn’t have ever given up or gone without a fight, and Lexa knew that. The loose term of Wanheda got to her head. Lexa merely called her that because she was a doctor, choosing who lives and who dies, therefore she commanded death itself. She never thought Clarke would actually be forced into a situation where she’d have to actually earn that title. Lexa called her Wanheda for her protection, not for her to run into the fray. She looked to Luna, her chest sinking deep in her stomach. “You’d do the same for Derrek, Luna, or have you forgotten the first attack on the Spire?”

“Derrek is strong.” She muttered low. “He has cheated death more times than I can count. And saved your life too, if you remember that. I’ve no doubt he will come home to me like he always does. But, right now, clear minds save lives.” Lexa nodded, agreeing with her, but she couldn't shake what Clarke’s big mouth would get her into. She had this overwhelming feeling of dread that they were too late and the killing had begun. She had a warning feeling about Derrek. Rarely had her gut ever been wrong after becoming Heda and she couldn’t ever let Luna know. Her spirit screamed out that he was gone and that Clarke is next. Luna read her like an ancient scroll only she could decipher. “I know you’ve lost Costia to this guy, but you need to stay calm.” Lexa steadied her breathing, slowly drawing air from her nose, exhaling through slightly parted lips. The door from the back of the building crashed open with a high pitched, scraping, screech.

Both sisters took notice of an Azgeda agent prancing outside with a bounce in his step from the chilly night, shuffling around the perimeter on a smoke break. He had an AK strapped to his side, sucking in the demon while exhaling into his exposed hands. Luna pressed her ear against the van, puffing out her exposed chest, while looking to Lexa, who did the same. 

“There.”

“I see him.” Lexa spotted their way in from where he had exited from. The building was once a glorious piece of art, housing office spaces in a hotel. The lower lobby, where the agent came from, was the back exit of the abandoned, four star steak house for the guests who had stayed. Large glass windows and stairs ran up the sides of the main area. A few Azgeda agents walked about, waiting for Lexa’s retaliation to retrieve her lover. 

She remembered this place when she accompanied Clarke to the closing a few years ago. It was designed as an airtight, radiation-free, lodging center for members of the CDC in the event of an airborne, biochemical attack, much like how Mount Weather was built for the President for the nuclear fallout. Now, it was a remnant of its glory. Light, life and hope used to fill the lobby. Now, it was nothing but guards with guns. A parking garage rested on the opposite side of the block, one leading to an overpass against the spacious street, where cars could drive under and employees, as well as guests, did not have to leave the safety of the warmth to reach their vehicles, crossing the four way pavement. Luna pulled out a blade from her pocket, sliding it across the ground, like a rat scurrying in an alley. Lexa stopped it with her boot, promptly curling her fingers around the foldable blade, then stuffed it into her pocket. 

“I know you’re a cop, but I’m special forces.” Luna warned. She didn’t want any argument about non-lethal takedowns for less casualties. The less bodies that could get back up again and warn people or fight, the better. They were at war, and Lexa understood better than anyone. She nodded toward her sister. “We do things my way.”

“If it’s to save our people…” She drew her iron from her leg holster, checking the clip of her M9, sliding back the rack, followed by checking the sights. She rummaged in her utility belt, drawing out a silencer, which she screwed on the barrel. “I’ll kill for you.” She shoved it back inside, but kept the weapon unclasped for a quickdraw.

“Good.” Luna whispered, blowing out hot air. “We take them quietly, drag the bodies out of sight. Save your ammo until you really need it.” Luna barked. The guard came around for another pass. “You’re up.” Lexa nodded, crouching toward the pavement, waiting for him to turn around. She drew her blade, flicking it open with her thumb on the thumb stud, then held it in accordance with the length of her forearm. She pressed her hand against the brick of the wall, peeking over the edge. The Azgeda turned his back toward her. Lexa slowly crept toward him, crouching low, clinging to the shadow of the building. Her stock commenced. 

He yawned checking his watch, then stretched his arms wide, swaying back and forth to pop his back. Lexa drew closer, keeping the blade at the side of her arm. She curled her fingers around his mouth, slitting his throat with the length of her arm in a slash, then flipped it to where the blade was pointing out of her fist, coming back in for another, deeper slice. He gurgled deep, drenching his bulletproof vest and collar. Lexa curled one arm underneath his, holding his mouth with her hand, then shoved the knife in her pocket. She scooped him up with the other arm under his, dragging him to the dumpster nearby. She set him down, coming to face him. He contorted, twinging while his life slowly faded from him with wide eyes. 

“Yu gonplei ste odon.” She stroked his matted, bloody hair gently, calming him with a hum while he sunk into his eternal slumber. Luna peered at her with a grimace. Just because she had to kill for her did not mean that he had to die alone. During the battle was different. They were attacking, and Lexa showed no remorse. This guard was armed, but his hands weren’t on his weapon. As a cop, it wasn’t a clean kill. It was murder. Some parts of her, regardless of the situation, couldn’t be shut off so easily, no matter how hard she tried. Lexa vowed to give him a proper burial when everything was through. She rolled his limp body under the crack of the dumpster: out of sight, out of mind. 

Suddenly, a loud noise startled the Heda. She snapped her neck toward it, glancing down the alley to two more Azgeda strolling toward her. Lexa pressed her coms, shuffling behind the side of the dumpster before they could spot her. They started walking toward her direction and she was pinned. 

“Two more at the south gate. They are on the move toward the body.” Lexa softly breathed in the comms of her ear piece, drawing her blade once again. She crouched low, ready to attack, shifting her weight on her feet. The two guards laughed with one another, dancing around to warm up, calling out their buddy’s name. He was late to report back in. “Shit.” The blood pool would be a dead giveaway if they neared any closer, and the panic of a dirty fight concerned the Heda. She had her own back-up, but within all time it would take for silence, the building would be on high alert that they were there. 

“I’ve got em.” Luna crackled back inside her ear. She drew her silenced weapon, spurting two bullets, whizzing past Lexa’s head. They were so close they chopped through her bronze locks. Her wide eyes turned toward her sister, then back toward the two guards. Luna rushed from the cover to the bodies. Lexa followed suit, huffing. They picked them up by the wrists, dragging the bodies toward the dumpster. Lexa noticed both hit them right between the eyes. It was quick. 

“Save your ammo?” Lexa raised an inquisitive brow, rolling her man under the dumpster next to the first kill, then rolled the second. She stood upward, meeting Luna’s half-grin. One of the bodies’ hands fell from under the cover, poking out. Luna kicked it underneath, patting Lexa’s shoulder. 

“Come on. Time’s wasting.” Luna took off running toward the back entrance of the steakhouse. Lexa followed suit. 

 

Clarke

 

His limp body lay on the floor, damn near decapitated. A pool of blood circled around the jiggling flesh while fresh boot prints stomped around the room like a child figuring out how to use a stamp on every surface they can press the rubber in. Flecks splattered around the spacious area, and against Clarke’s horrified mug. Her lip quivered in a fury, while her sky blues dilated a million miles away. She couldn’t fathom what was transpiring. It all had to be a sick dream that she’d wake up from anytime. Clarke gazed into the glass coffin, slowly sucking the life from her friends, then toward the table with a figure strapped to it, thrashing against the rough hands clasping her bound. She couldn’t even comprehend the screams pouring from her own lungs. She needed to get everyone out as quickly as possible, but she was frozen in the fragmentation, sucking the air from her while the torture commenced. 

Shrieks of agony launched through the room like the banshee's call, unnerving everyone in the area, and, probably, two floors above and below. A woman was strapped to a table with chain and leather belts, bloody, tattered and torn. Dark puffy circles swelled around her eyes with pockets pooling to the surface and a split lip. A power drill circulated around the bone under her kneecap, while Nia’s other hand housed a long knife, lightly stroking between the tear in her chest, threatening to sever the skin, unzipping her. A red rash from the stroking blade followed suit. Her pleading affliction agonized everyone trapped, suffocating in the glass box. Clarke was strapped to a chair, helpless to do anything. She dug deeper in her binds with another snap. Slowly, the twine split. She needed to save her, at all costs. The drill stopped suddenly, then a salty finger filled the hole, spreading it wider, wiggling through like a worm in a rotten apple. 

“MAKE IT STOP!!!” Raven flailed off the table to Nia’s pressure, filling her with the sting in her crippled leg. “PLEASE!!!!” She sobbed, terrified, broken and battered. Clarke couldn’t cut through the binds fast enough. She couldn’t make it obvious, but she couldn’t sit back and do nothing. 

“Raven, Raven!” Bellamy banged hard against the plexiglass to muffled cries. The drilling continued. “Raven! Look at me! Look at me, it’s all okay.” He banged harder until she craned her neck toward him, tears in her eyes with exasperated pleading. His face scrunched, almost disbelieving himself, but kept the stern facade that she would get through this. SNAP! A small hole drilled to the other side of the table she was forced on. Raven screeched so hard, bile built in her throat, exploding in a fountain to the side of her, choking it out. She sucked in deep breaths for air. The drilling ceased. “You’re going to be okay!” Nia slowly plunged her knife into Raven’s soft tissue, like poking a toothpick in a cupcake to see if it is done, completely nonchalant. She refused to show any satisfaction or lack thereof: stone cold. 

“PLEASE!!! STOP!!! I’LL DO ANYTHING, JUST STOP!!!!!!” Clarke cried out in an agonizing plea. Bellamy kept banging on the plexiglass. His fists grew raw and bloody from the excessive banging. Clarke couldn’t contain the hysteria creeping from her throat. She didn’t feel present to the inflicted pain, completely shutting down to protect herself. Lexa hadn’t come. It had been over an hour. She was sure the Heda would back the up, but she was nowhere to be found. She had to do something. Anything. Titus peered at the broken girl with a simmering fire building in her loins. He saw that look once before, when the Spire fell and Lexa wanted blood. He knew she was hers, a piece of her ripped from her reborn in something new; her soulmate. It terrified him. Lexa left for her duty and Clarke, with the rest, were collateral. She simply wasn’t coming, but there was no doubt any more would send the girl bound in the chair over the edge into a rampage.

“I’ve had enough of this, Nia.” Clarke darted her gaze toward the bald headed baboon, walking about the table, taking the drill from Nia’s reach. “Lexa is probably stocking in the shadows. She won’t save this girl.” He scanned the room with the giant air ducts above their heads, big enough to fit a slender frame. There was no change, no movement, just the stillness of the makeshift torture room that would put the Tower of London in the Tudor Era to shame. “She’s ruthless.” Clarke couldn’t believe Lexa admired Titus’s gumption; foster father or not.

She wondered what would make a man snap so radically from once being a teacher, then realized that if all of her students and children were slaughtered in cold blood, she’d stop at nothing for vengeance. What baffled her most was the woman responsible for their murders stood at his side and not in the grave. It didn’t make any sense, except for the ruler of everything: money. And, she was cemented in this coldharbour of decay, responsible for Derrek’s death, responsible for the trickle of the cash flow dwindling to a drought. It was her fault. It had to be done for her people, but she’s killed everyone she ever loved in the process. Derrek was just the appetizer, Raven the salad in Nia’s feast for blood.

“You’re soft on the girl who just took everything from you.” Nia wrapped her claws around her victim’s throat. Raven struggled against the force from the pressures tightening around her neck like the death grip of an anaconda around an alligator. Her boots squeaked against the table with her effort. Murphy joined Bellamy’s persistent banging on the plexiglass, smeared with his fresh sanguine. They took turns, ramming their shoulders in the walls. It bowed outward with gentle thuds, muffled on the other side. Nia gazed at Titus, who held his light hover over her forearm to drop the girl. 

“You can have your fun, but I’m leaving.” He lowered his head in the Ice Queen’s ear, offering silent council. Raven squirmed under her relentless force, sucking the life from her. Nia slowly released the pressures to Raven’s coughing gulps. “I won’t stand around and do nothing.”

“Then go!” She waved him away. Relieving the rest of the pressure from Raven’s throat. She picked up a towel, wiping her hand from the bile that touched her skin. Titus studied her every movement. “You Trikru are all weak. No matter.” Titus rolled his eyes. He had enough of the screaming for one day, and Clarke was sure if, and the strong “if”, Lexa was coming, he was going to slow down the process of any form of help. Nia picked up the knife once more, jabbing it deep in the soft tissue of Raven’s thigh, avoiding her artery completely. She wanted to prolong it as much as possible, keeping the blade within. With that, Titus exited the room, waving two more guards to take his place. He did not trust Wanheda morphing into her title. Nia leaned in toward Raven’s ear, breathing down her spine. “Trikru always ruin the fun.”

Raven’s wide eyes pleaded with Clarke, who caught her stare. Tears dropped down the side of Raven’s cheeks, collecting in the crevices of her ears, wiping away some of the blood. She stretched her hand as far as she could toward Clarke, sho shuttered deep in her chest, unable to control the inhuman moan quivering from her lip, pleading apologies to one of her two best friends in the world. She quaked, jarred with the realization only SHE could save everyone. She vowed to herself, no one else would die here. She wasn’t going to let that happen. She rubbed the bounds, fraying the ropes, slowly. Another gave way. Just two more knots and she’d be free. 

She didn’t care she scratched up the palms of her hands, or even that she felt the warm crimson trickle down them, collecting in a puddle under her. They would probably figure it was from the tight binding, digging graves into her. Her people needed her. Clarke wasn’t about to abandon them. Fire raged bright in her empty skies, snapping her into a dilated stillness. Derrek’s blood, splattered across her solemn face, dried and flaked away with the contortions of her wrinkling brow. She possessed the same crazed look Lexa wore when in a blind rage about to mutilate in the most horrendous way. Nia inched closer toward the bound woman. She didn’t like that look and Clarke knew it. Wanheda craned her neck toward the monster of Azgeda. Clarke opened up her lungs, frozen, yet brazen enough to fight back with every bone in her body.

“I’m gonna kill you…”

“What was that?” Nia questioned. Roan stepped forward in warning, instinctively protecting his mother in a reluctant slump. Clarke noticed his heart wasn’t fully in it by his apathetic lethargy. Maybe he was telling the truth in Arkadia. Maybe he is on their side and wants the war to end, but he swore fealty and his word is his bond, bound deeper than the blood they shared. Nia quickly shoved him back to stand down.“Speak up, girl. I didn’t quite hear you.” She staggered toward Clarke in a display of dominance, her head held high, hands stained with blood, no matter how she rubbed them in her cloth. Slowly, step by step, she neared close to the blonde, finally inching down, clawing her talons around the armrests of Clarke’s uncomfortable wooden chair. Her leather creaked with each motion. Nia’s hot, rancid breath assaulted Clarke’s nostrils, whose eyes ascended north, her impassioned fury sliced through Nia’s threat. She lifted her chin, exposing her neck, welcoming her to try to strike her down.

“I’m going to kill you.” Nia cocked her head to the side. Bellamy stopped banging on the plexiglass, witnessing the sudden change he had seen on the battlefield, yet never in his life experienced from Clarke. She almost didn’t look human, more like a nuclear reactor building into a path of pure destruction, about to vaporize everyone in the close vicinity: friend or foe. “Once I get out of here and free my friends,” Her brow peaked. “I’m coming for you.

“Tough talk for someone in your position.” Nia released her chair, stomping about in her quiet violence.

“It’s not talk.” Clarke spat. “It’s a promise.”

“Then I guess you won’t be saving Lexa if you do.” She creaked a ferocious grin in her powerplay. Clarke’s hawkish gaze narrowed in on her target, swinging her worry from the glass coffin, to Raven’s shallow weeze, down toward Derrek’s body, then back toward the Queen of Azgeda. Nia wrung her hands, slightly intimidated, yet, enthralled by a challenge. Now, she was seeing Wanheda for the first time, not just some girl pretending to be the Commander of Death. She recognized it in her eyes, in her fire for the taste of blood. She had broken the life within her. Just a few more pushes and Clarke may actually be worthy of the challenge she promised; worthy of Nia’s fury while Lexa watched. “See, if I go, this building and everyone inside is going to blow. 

“You lie.”

“Am I?” Sudden panic arose in Clarke. Surely, Nia wasn’t that crazy to kill herself and her son as well. But, self sacrifice did bring Azgeda to Godhood, a martyr, should they fall and take the biggest blight of their people as well. If they didn’t, they were worthy of death and branded a coward. Nia reached her grasp toward her collar, drawing her shirt down to reveal electrodes that hooked to wires, emitting down to her pocket. She fumbled inside drawing out a remote detonator. Nia sauntered toward a control pannel a few paces away while Clarke observed her confident strides. “I die and we all go boom, including your precious Lexa.” She pressed a giant red button. Sudden lights flashed around the room in critical warning. Coughing poured from the plexiglass cell. 

“The gas is getting stronger!” Bellamy bellowed, grasping at his throat. More gas poured through the vents of the box. Octavia fell to her knees, choking. Bellamy dropped to his, holding his hand pressed against his sister’s back while she slowly suffocated, swallowing in the gas that quickly lightened their heads. Murphy slid against the wall, aggressively shoving his white knuckled fists in his matted, sweaty hair, furiously rubbing while he boomed in a panicked hollar. Clarke’s mouth gaped ajar, her brow almost touched one another, wrinkling in the hopeless worry. She gritted her fang, mercilessly glaring at the woman. She would snap the damn binds if she had to, break the glass and free her family.

“We’ve got pressure valves everywhere, and you won’t be able to find them. There’s enough pressure in there that if you break it, you’d cause a spark. In layman's terms, your friends go boom.” Clarke’s merciless stare broke. Nia’s lip crinkled in a snarling smirk. “Kill me, we all go boom.” She inched closer toward Clarke, grabbing her jaw with her index and thumb, shoving her long nail in the soft of Clarke’s cheek until it broke the skin. “You can’t stop this, Wanheda.” Nia threw her jaw, bursting a painful, pinching crack in Clarke’s neck. She frantically searched the room, but she couldn’t figure anything out. Her previous plan completely fell through. Guards came closer. She cursed under her breath, pleading for a miracle: for Lexa. But, no one listened to her pleas. For the first time, Clarke was null of all hope. 

 

Lexa

 

She dashed behind cover, standing on the balcony, as three Azgeda forces sauntered about, joking with one another about one’s little girl turning two in three days while the other suggested she wasn’t his. They were so normal. Lexa knew not all of them were monsters, but Luna wanted to wipe them all out. Lexa only wanted two dead. The others, she’d merely arrest and let their justice system take care of it. One other, she was at a crossroads, reluctant to kill, but she had to. He raised her and Luna after their parent’s passed, but she had to be Heda. Just like with Gustus, she’d mourn them later. The body count kept growing at an alarming rate. Lexa didn’t know what was real anymore. All she knew was that Clarke was in danger and, probably, with the two she wanted dead the most. 

She poked her head over the rails, studying the room. Where the Azgeda forces headed was the entrance of the long overpass toward the parking garage with large, double wide, glass doors. Below her housed an escalator and a giant glass sculpture, which glistened like melting ice. The hotel was once a gorgeous space for upper echelons in the CDC, now it was but a remnant of the glory days, while Trikru and Azgeda grunted toward one another, reluctant to shake hands and stand alongside one another. Suddenly, a glint of light shrouded her eyes. An audible ding from the Elevator on the other side of the grand room echoed in the domed area. Lexa checked the clip of her muzzled pistol, dragging out two more full clips from her pockets, fastening them in the jack of her bulletproof vest, then clicked on her comms.

“Moonriver, do you copy?” Titus emerged from the elevator shaft on the bottom floor, surrounded by vast, marble pillars and blue verbenas, with red tulips, overflowing on either side of the entrance. He slowly stepped forward, scanning the area and the balcony, addressing the Azgeda and Trikru alike nodding toward the bald, tall man. He stopped in the center of the open area with a crystal chandelier over his head. A staircase set on his opposite side, while the other housed a few couches and a round community chair, which guests waiting for the bellhops would have sat, sipping their coffee and reading the morning news. “I’ve eyes on the target.”

“Affirmative, Commander Raccoon.” Her comms buzzed in her ear. “I’ve cut off the rear. No backup will come for him that way. It will buy us some time.” Lexa poked her head over the rails once more toward Luna’s laser, aimed right at her, revealing Luna’s position in case of needed assistance. She narrowed her vision across the hall, spotting what appeared to be her sister with bodies stacked upon bodies she slowly dragged to the emergency fire exit staircase. Titus paced back and forth, stalking impatiently, waiting for the Heda. She was sure he knew she was in the building already. Titus always had a keen sense whenever she was near, and the Heda couldn’t get away with anything growing up. He would always find out, like an overbearing helicopter parent, constantly needing to keep eyes on their child at all times, no matter their age.

“I’m taking him out!” Lexa deeply sighed. She knew it had to be done, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. He was the first person she opened up to after her parents passed, always trying to live up to his expectations. Even after becoming Heda, she held him to a higher degree. He made sure that she was taken care of, that she was fed and her mental state was at a calm. He taught her to control her temper and use it as a strength: that, blood must have blood. She wanted to do it as quick as possible, but face him head on instead of taking the shot. She owed him that much after everything, even when he greenlit her murder. She understood he was only doing what he thought was right for their people. Lexa couldn’t fault him for that, but the killings of innocents had to be answered for. Taking Clarke and working with Azgeda must be repaid with death. She just never thought it would end like this. 

“Wait, Commander!” Luna’s cumbersome tone snapped the Heda out of her head. “Don’t rush in blind.”

“I’m not.” Lexa blew out hot air. She needed to be smart. There were too many wild variables and guns around to do anything. She could be spotted, or Luna could be, compromising the mission. Her adrenaline from the epinephrine started to ware off, fogging over her eyes in an exhausted haze. The pain from the cauterized holes singed at her once more. She smacked it, focusing, kickstarting her system back into a shock. Lexa pushed herself further over the edge to do what must be done. 

“I’m gonna drop you Raven’s prototype glove.” Lexa’s comms sizzled in her ear, nodding to herself. It was a brilliant idea. Raven tweaked one of the prototype exoskeleton gloves overnight. It amplified the blows, leaving craters and jagged shards around a brick wall in the testing room. She was so pleased with herself that she was able to build the code and tech for it, using little sonic pulses to vibrate at high enough frequencies, destroying anything in it’s path. The ballistic gel, representing a person, did not stand a chance. It gave the same effect of a shotgun blast to the face at point blank range. “It should absorb any shock from any blow. You’re still injured. It will even the odds.”

“Affirmative.” Luna flashed her laser at the Heda, drawing the small dot toward the bar on the opposite end of both of them, connecting in the corner of the balcony. It was perfect for the rendezvous. Lexa locked in, flashing her own lazer twice, signaling she has the location and was making her way toward it. The small bar housed overhead, low hanging lights, with draught tabs on both ends. A few stools lingered around it, while tables with four stools around each one set randomly around the small area. Lexa noticed, in the distance, it was at least one thing in the damn hotel that stayed stagnant. Half empty bottles of hard liquors and whiskeys still lined the back of the shelf against the mirror. The escalator was a few paces away for the drunk fools to ride, instead of tripping down a full flight. 

Titus stomped around, sulking his shoulders. He could almost smell her, feeling her intense aura. He was in tune with Lexa’s pressures ever since she was a kid, and Lexa knew it. It was this strange bond they had as Flamekeeper and Heda, similar to the empathetic, phantom knowledge and pains between twins, countries away. He glanced directly her way, and Lexa was sure she was there. He had to have felt her pressures, but another nightblood was enough to throw him off her sent, especially of the same blood.

“Heda!” He taunted, shifting toward Luna’s position with his head, scanning the area. He kept it on a constant swivel. Lexa popped her face over the rails, observing him. She sunk back down, crouching toward the bar, along with Luna on the opposite end of the rectangular balcony. “I know you’re here somewhere.”

“Lexa, don’t do it.” Luna buzzed. She met the bar before her sister. Lexa popped her head over the rails once more. They were compromised the moment Titus appeared. Luna may have forgotten already, but Lexa never could. They couldn’t get away with anything as children, into teenagers. Titus always barged in anytime Costia and she got to the edge of glory. He caught Lexa with her head between Costia’s thighs, her jeans undone. He held the same disappointing scowl, now, as he had back then at the Spire. 

“I only shot you to save you from the real truth of everything.” He taunted. It peaked Lexa’s interest, but she refused to let that sway her slow strides toward the bar, mindful to not give away her position. “Don’t you wish to know what President Wallace is really doing? What your sister was doing for him all this time?” Luna turned as white as a sheet of ice, glistening in the moonlight. She covered her surprise, shaking it off, before Lexa had time to snap her head toward her. Lexa ducked behind a marble pillar, craning her neck toward the domed, stained glass ceiling. The chandelier rested directly over Titus’s head. She’d need enough force to crash it on him, like with the glove, but a pistol, and that high up for close range, wouldn’t work. Lexa let the fleeting thought go, pressing on. She reached the escalator.

“Nia is with your blonde girlfriend killing your friends.” This struck a nerve in Lexa, frozen in time. She turned toward the man. Luna shook her head, crackling something inaudible in Lexa’s ear. He could be lying. He had no way of knowing she was with Clarke, unless... “Don’t you want to save Waheda?” That did it. Lexa lept over the rails, landing in the middle of the escalator, pistol drawn. She flung herself over the conveyor, flipping out her folded knife with her thumb on the stud, shifting it to line with the length of her forearm. 

“DAMNIT, LEXA!” Luna slid on the glove, while the three that disappeared on the opposite end charged toward her. They began firing upon the FlouKru champion. Luna broke into a charge, sliding on her knees, pumping their chests full of lead. Their bullets whizzed over her head. She dropped the empty clip with her pinky, shoving the grip in her pocket, jamming a fresh one in. She locked it, firing at the three to finish them off. Once they dropped, Luna shot two on the ground level in the head. Lexa popped the other two, leaving Titus unprotected. 

“Titus…” Lexa growled.

“There you are, Heda.” He dramatically flung off his robes. It pooled around his feet. His black undershirt clung to his chiseled frame, a leather holster housed various pistols and knives. He taught Lexa to be ready for everything and anything, and she was. He clearly was as well with the amount of ammunition on his person. He respected her enough to present his arms. Titus drew two pistols from the back of his leather pants, tossing them on the floor. He pulled the other three from his holster, tossing them to the floor. Lexa gave him the same honor, throwing hers.

“I’m coming, Heda!” Luna didn’t bother using her comms. They were compromised either way, especially after Lexa impulsively dashed out of cover. Lexa didn’t care. Clarke was in danger, and with the one person she wanted to murder the most. If Nia knew they were together, she could only imagine what horrors she had in store for her beloved. It wouldn’t be like Costia. This one would be a brutality on the coldest degree. 

“No.” She croaked, pacing him back and forth. He drew his longest blade, dropping it on the ground, followed by three more. He finally stopped at his foldable one, stooping into a defensive position, tilted toward the side. He dipped low. “He’s mine.” Lexa charged toward the man, leaping in the air. Both of her hands caught the knife, driving it downward to break his defense. It worked. He stumbled backward, widening his arms to keep her away from his torso. Lexa rolled to the side, bowing under his turned offense charging toward her. She spun like a whirlwind, slicing at his arm. It met its mark, drawing first blood. Titus peered from the cut to her. Never had Lexa ever been able to break firsts when she was at the Spire. He was both proud and mortified. Lexa lunged once more, engaging with the last remnant of her innocence.

 

CLARKE

 

Sudden frantic shuffling scuttled about the hallowed halls of the office spaces Clarke and the others were trapped in. The clanking boots boomed in stampedes with high clicks of magazines slamming in their rifles. Clarke scanned the gas chamber, locking eyes with Bellamy. His deep browns widened with panic. SHE was here. She had to be. Nia trailed away from the broken, bloody mechanic on the table, wiping her sticky palms on the towel at the end. She sauntered to the black box on the wall by the door, pressing it. A gnarly, annoying buzz stifled Clarke’s snap of the rope. One more strand of twine and she’d be free. A guard sauntered toward her, unclasping his bowie knife’s hilt, warning Wanheda who was still in charge. 

“My Queen. Movement in the lower lobby. We are cut off at the elevator and fire escape. Making our way down.” The voice crackled. “So far, only two reported sighted. What are your orders?” The raspy voice echoed in the entire room, erupting the stillness. Nia snapped her neck toward Clarke, who’s trouble made the crinkle of her lip contort into a satisfied sneer. 

“Sounds like Titus found your Heda.” She cleared her throat, tossing her chin toward the air, content that her plan was coming together, thanks to holding Lexa’s girlfriend prisoner. It made it all the more satisfying. 

“Lexa!” Clarke picked up the pace on her binds. Lexa wouldn’t just leave them to die, and Nia had her exactly where she wanted. Her contingency plan of the bombs and gas pressure in the building was insurance enough for Clarke to get Lexa the hell out of there, before Nia had the chance to set them off. She needed to save everyone, even if it killed her. At least, they’d have each other if Clarke was gone, she thought. She wasn’t even worried if they caught her struggling with her binds anymore. 

“I’ve my doubts he will actually succeed.” Nia wrung her hands, then promptly chewed on her nail, shrugging her shoulders. Clarke couldn't believe she was so calm, as if she was placing bets on the World Cup with no real team she could stand behind. “Roan, go send our thralls to pay her a little visit.” Nia backed away from the box, leaving the man on the other end waiting for the shoot to kill order. Roan narrowed his vision, swinging it from Clarke to his mother. 

“How many?” He shuffled to the box, kicking the foot of one of Derrek’s downed guards. Clarke noted there was more than enough room between Nia, Roan and herself, that she could take the knife from the guard and kill his mother. She just needed to get free. She hoped Roan was telling the truth back in Arkadia that he wanted the war to end and that he was on Clarke’s side. He nodded toward her, as if reading her thoughts. 

“It may be overkill, but, better make it a hundred. Maybe two.” She threaded a hand through her hair, exhaling, exasperated like her son was a dimwit. “Clear both first and second levels.”

“It shall be done.” Roan echoed his mother’s order.

“No! You can’t!” Clarke couldn't contain her outburst. Lexa wouldn’t stand a chance against two hundred gang members with fully automated rifles. The guard reported only two. It must be Luna with her, she thought. Clarke tried to reason with Roan’s better angels. Nia picked up the drill from the floor, waltzing back toward Raven. It was too much for Clarke to bear. “Roan, please! Don’t do this!” Nia eyed her son, judging him with extreme prejudice.

“Levels one and two, we’ve intruders in the lower lobby.” He pressed the intercom to the other guard’s awaiting surprise. Clarke shook her head, starry eyed.

“Don’t…” Roan gulped, taking one last notice of his mother starting the drill. 

“Orders are shoot to kill on sight.”

“NO!!!“ SNAP! Clarke was free. The guard drew his bowie knife fast, while she jumped out of her seat, heart pumping full of adrenaline. The burly man came eat her. She ducked under his elbow, twisting the frayed rope in her palm around his bladed one, then jabbed the end into his throat with her shoulder. It sunk deep into the hollow, pushing the back of his collar out with the blooming red. She dislodged the massive blade from his trachea, flinging the specks of blood on the Queen of Azgeda, charging straight toward her. Roan reached his mother before Clarke could drive the blade in her stomach, meeting Roan’s side instead. He walked into it, nearing closer to the doctor. It was clear, Nia didn’t think Clarke had it in her, by her sudden tremble. Roan grasped Wanheda by the neck, while grinding his teeth to Clarke’s twist. Nia dropped the drill, backing up a few paces toward the door. 

“Roan, do your job!” She was more concerned about self preservation than the bowie knife lodged in her son’s lower rib.

“Yes...Mother.” He grunted, releasing pressure around Clarke’s neck. She spat at her feet, throwing open the door before slamming it shut behind her. Once she was out of view, Roan released the girl altogether. She gasped for air, surprised by his sudden change of heart. Clarke turned toward the bleeding man, holding his throat in one hand, reaching out toward them with his other. His pool collected at her mortified feet, while he stopped struggling. The light left him. Clarke shook a serious tremor, for she had never taken a life before. His eyes burned holes in her cranium. She’d abandoned her oath in that instant. Her hands were soiled with the taint of war. She never wanted this, but it had to be done. It had to. 

 

Lexa

 

The trail of bodies flooded across the skywalk with Luna leading the tail while Titus and Lexa collided blades. Both Nightbloods staggered, slowing motions in a fatigue, scuffed up with serious, deep gashes in their limbs. Titus swung close enough to her face, meeting its target under her cheekbone. Lexa backed up a few paces while he parried, then spun around with his elbow in her face. He reached his blade under the top of her vest, fraying it with one hand, using impressive speed to yank the velcro off of the side. It dangled around her hips. Lexa bared her fangs, charging directly at him with her head. He popped her in the back of the neck. She dropped like a cinder block in a lake, weighing a body down. She twisted her legs around, meeting the back of his knee. 

“HEDA, IF YOU’RE GONNA DO SOMETHING, BETTER DO IT FAST!!!” Luna screeched at her sister. She noted the army charging toward them. They kept pouring from the framework like ants. Luna would carve one down, four more would replace them. Lexa snapped her neck toward her sister, who dropped a small EMP charge, blowing a hole in the door of the skywalk. The Azgeda and Trikru agents charged toward the front entrance, only met with FlouKru operatives. 

“Brought your Kru?” Titus craned his neck over his shoulder, observing the massive firefight breaking out. Luna held off the others as best as she could, that slipped through the cracks. Rubble crackled to the storey below, swaying the overpass. They needed to get the hell out of there before the whole thing collapsed.

“You taught me to always be prepared, Teacher.” Lexa backhanded him. Titus held his breath with the connecting sting, jabbing her with an uppercut, breaking her offense. He, then, kicked her chest backward, flinging her through the doors into the parking garage. Anya rushed toward Lexa’s side, helping her partner up, while FlouKru filed around them. 

“I’m alright. This is between me and him. Stand down.” Lexa barked at them. “Get Luna the hell out of there. Leave him to me.” Anya nodded, signaling the others to follow suit. They laid down defensive fire, while Luna rushed out of the area, just in time. The skybridge collapsed to the street below, crushing a Sudan driving underneath. In the distance, sirens rang out from every direction. Small fires in the city loomed in the horizon. Lexa eyed the spaces between the cracks, through the trees, completely mortified. It was an all out siege on the city: a last ditch effort to take over TonDC.

“You can’t win this, Heda.” Titus caught his winded breath, more mournful than menacing. He whispered in the wind like he did when the Spire fell. It wasn’t full of malice. The conflict of interest rose in Lexa. Was Titus trying to save her? He pushed her back far enough from the site, but Clarke and the others were in there. She snapped back into attention. “Even if I fall, President Wallace will still launch the nukes.”

“You’re stalling.” She growled low, leaning back on her foot. She raised both of her hands in a defensive stature Titus had once taught her when she became Heda. She rocked back and forth, ready to pounce on the man. 

“Didn’t Luna tell you?” This caught her attention, cocking her head, raising her brow. Titus exhaled, notably conflicted if he should say anything. Lexa didn't’ even know if she’d believe him. He would say anything at this point to save his skin. “As long as his attention is focused on us, he won’t be looking at the rest of the world.” He pointed toward the entire crowd wrapped around, watching them like it was a Gladiatorial arena. “Her vigilantes won’t win this, even if we are all gone.”

“What’s that have to do with anything?” Titus made no sense what so ever.

“The Earth is dying, Heda. Too many people.” This was a new concept. She was sure Titus had completely lost his damn mind. “We have to take them out for him, and he won’t launch the bombs to end the world.” That did it. Her anger turned to pity. He had completely lost it after the Spire, but there was something in him that she sort of believed. Maybe it was his gumption about it, maybe years of following everywhere he lead as his ultimate soldier, leading their people. She shook the thought from her skull, aligning her blade with her forearm. 

“You lie.” 

“Think about it, Heda.” He pleaded with her better angels, throwing his blade. Lexa was sure he had another angle and was just stalling. “He’ll be safe in Mount Weather. Our people won’t be.”

“Then, I’ll stop him.” She played his game. She folded her knife, sliding it into her pocket, ripping off the rest of the vest he destroyed. She had more freedom to move, but was less protected. 

“I've tried.” The pure exasperation on his face warranted her to take him slightly more serious than she should have. It was more than Luna would have given him. “I needed to save you!” Each step of the way, he gave her a fair fight. That had to account for something that maybe, just may he really was trying to give her a chance. 

“Save me?” She questioned. Titus charged her, in close quarters after regaining his breath. Lexa popped his wrist away from her throat. He grunted.

“From the reaping.”

 

Clarke

 

Once he was sure his mother wasn't coming back, he slowly drew the blade from his ribs.The edges of his skin stuck to the blade, pulling it outward. Roan bit his bottom lip, crinkling his nose, then threw it to his feet. Clarke rushed toward the glass coffin. It was completely air-tight sealed. 

“I thought I told you. I’m on your side.” He grunted, slapping his palm over the oozing hole. He coughed with the sudden oxygen catching the wound. “I don’t want to kill you, but you’re making it tempting.” He admitted to the doctor. She narrowed her vision at him, pressing her fingers against the door as quick as she could. “I want the war to end as much as you, Wanheda.”

“Do you mind not talking?!” She snapped at him, looking at every avenue to disengage the lock on the door. Bellamy pointed toward the control box behind her, but she was so frazzled, she kept searching past it. Roan rolled his eyes.

“The disengage lock is on the panel.” He sighed. Clarke rushed toward it, sliding in the blood, collapsing. It soaked her side. She lifted herself to her knees, crawling to the circuitry, using it to prop herself up. She studied each switch, finally flicking the “disengage lock” one to open the door. A hissing and suction released the pressures from the box, flinging the door open. Fresh air choked their lungs while the lingering scent of natural gas flooded the room. Roan stumbled toward Clarke, hitting the panel, shutting off the gas valves like she was some sort of idiot. The scent slowly dissipated. While Murphy, Octavia and Bellamy crawled out, she rushed Raven, shivering on the hard table. Clarke stroked her hair, comfortingly. 

“C-Clarke…” She sobbed at the gentle touch and the Blonde’s hair tickling her nose, leaning over her. She used one hand to unfasten the belts, while holding her hair at her crown. Bellamy followed suit, removing the shackles around her feet, favoring her drilled holes. Clarke yanked the belt from under her, tieing it above her thigh in a tourniquet. 

“It's okay.” She bowed her head overtop of Raven. “You're safe now, Ray.” Raven struggled to sit up. She quickly flung her arms around Clarke’s neck, sobbing. Bellamy conformed himself around Raven’s back, holding onto her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. 

“Bellamy…” She groaned, leaning back into him. He moved his mouth down to her cheek. 

“Hey there, Mechanic. You’re pretty fucking strong, you know that?” He flashed a quick grin. Octavia stumbled toward her, filling her hand with hers. Murphy lingered back, eyeing Roan intently, catching his breath. Roan crawled closer to help, however Bellamy spotted him. He lunged for him, scooping up the bowie knife on the floor in the process. Bellamy crossed it against his throat, shoving him against the wall, ready to slash deep. He’d finish where Clarke fell short. Roan glanced past his shoulder toward the doctor.

“A simple thank you would have sufficed.” He sarcastically groaned, then eyed the black haired man in front of him. Bellamy snarled, while Roan raised his hands to his chest. He came in closer, sizing him up. Roan sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, scanning the contents of the room. 

“Let him go.” Clarke reluctantly agreed to Roan’s sarcasm. He lingered against Roan’s throat, leaving a small red mark across it, daring him to try his patience. Bellamy wanted him dead more than anyone, and Clarke knew it. Lexa was in trouble, and he relentlessly scoffed at him, like he were the scum of the Earth. They were losing time. Clarke needed to go after Nia. She just didn’t know how the hell to get to her first. 

“Bellamy, you grab Derrek, I’ve got Raven.” Octavia snapped her brother back into shape with bloodshot eyes. Clarke glanced toward Derrek, completely limp and barren of all life. If she couldn’t take out Azgeda, she knew for damn sure that Luna would. Her dire need for revenge would come at no costs. Clarke would be doing Nia a favor by taking her out first. Murphy broke.

“Where’s Emori?!” Uncertainty filled the shake in his voice. 

“She was with Anya’s team.” Clarke reassured him. “They took the wounded, including Lincoln to Arkadia.” Octavia released a long sigh. Lincoln was safe, last they knew. There was enough death for one day for her. Murphy craned his neck toward the ceiling, relieved that his girl was at least safe from harm. Roan cleared his throat.

“Go! Now!” He growled in a low murmur. Clarke just stared at him as if he were a hydra with seventeen heads. 

“No way, not without Lexa, and not without my promise.” Bellamy set his hands on his hips, while Octavia and Murphy scooped up Raven, setting her on either side of their arms. She sat on the table, groaning at the slow motions moving upright. Clarke nodded with every syllable. “I WILL kill your mother.”

“I can’t stop you, but I’ll help.” She froze, staring at him sideways with wide eyes, her brows threatening to meet in the center. Roan blew out his cheeks, crossing his arms. “The shut off valves are in the ventilation system distribution center. To avoid everyone, you’ll have to climb through vents on this level.” He pointed toward the giant air ducts overhead. It was small enough to avoid detection, yet, big enough for a slender body to fit through. Azgeda wouldn’t even bother checking them. “Three passageways to the right, then make a left. You can kick open the vent. Here’s the key.” Roan drew the twirls from his pocket, holding his hands up for Bellamy to see he meant no harm. Clarke extended her palm and he rested the cold copper and nickel in it. “If you enter through the room, you will boil from the heat being sucked out of the air. You need to drop outside of it.”

“Got it.”

“Shutting off those valves will release the flow of gas, pumping it through the vents of the entire building.” Roan admitted. 

“Smart.” Raven grunted. Everyone snapped their necks toward the woman bracing herself to stand. Murphy and Octavia caught her weight while she leaned on them. “One spark and Boom. You just need to get enough gas and pressure built up, otherwise it won’t spark.” She granted Clarke the caveat, who nodded, reciprocating the warning. She turned herself, with her roommates’ help, toward Wanheda and Roan, staring at them head on. 

“Get to a safe distance, shoot at the metal, it will cause a spark with the friction.” Roan pulled a Glock from the back of his pants, filling it in her bloody hand. She studied it with piercing scrutiny. Roan was helping her, truly helping her, when not only moments before, he signed over Lexa’s death sentence. She couldn’t fully trust him, but she had something to hold onto. It was more than she had before. 

“Why are you helping me?” Clarke’s thoughts slipped from her lips. Everyone shifted in the room, thinking the same thing. They couldn’t believe that Roan was just helping his mother, then flipped at a moment’s notice. Clarke thought it was very Murphy of him: all about self preservation at all costs for his own agenda. 

“I’ve already told you. And besides, you’ll owe me.” He was exactly like Murphy, only more rugged and calculating. He WANTED something. It all made sense to Clarke. He wanted penance and immunity. Clarke wanted to deck him square in the jaw, but she owed him to let him go for the information. Maybe if she was lucky, he might not make it, while he bled out. She snapped her attention back toward her roommates.

“Murphy, Bellamy, Octavia, get Raven the hell out of here and find Lexa. Get them clear!” She barked the order. Bellamy stepped the distance between them, abrasive as ever. 

“Not without you!” He begged. Clarke lowered her lids, her face softening. She couldn’t look him in the eye, especially since she truly believed she wouldn’t make it out alive. If she was damn lucky, maybe, just maybe…

“I’ve a job.” She quipped. Bellamy grabbed at her wrist, holding her bound, throwing her into his chest. He held on for dear life. Clarke curled her face up against his shirt.

“Well, you’re not doing it alone.” He refused to let her go, no matter how hard she thrashed. Clarke couldn’t risk him. He’d only slow her down, and there was no way in hell that he could fit through those air ducts. 

“Bellamy, I have to.” She curled her fingers in his stubbled chin. Bellamy raised his to meet hers, falling into her caress. “I have to save our people; save her.”

“No way in hell!” He squeezed her hand. 

“Don’t make me hurt you.” Clarke coughed a warning. She couldn’t lose him too. Lexa needed him, just in case she lost her fight this night. “You’d only slow me down.” Pain filled his deep browns, staring back at Clarke. She didn’t mean it like that, but she was running out of time. Titus could be killing her, and she needed the backup more. Raven was in no position to fight. Derrek needed to be reunited with Luna. There was no other option. “Please.” Clarke begged. Bellamy blushed, taking her hand in his, pressing it against his lips. It was a futile attempt to get her to stay. “Please…”

“You really love her.” He sucked in a deep sigh, releasing Wanheda to her fate, truly accepting that his best friend would die for this girl, and all of them. He couldn’t shake his head fast enough to literally, shake the worry from his scorn soul. She held her breath, watching Murphy and Octavia drag Raven toward the door, guided by Roan of Azgeda. 

“Enough to save her, even from herself…” She pursed her lips, erect like a marble statue. Bellamy gulped. 

“What do I tell her?” He barely choked out the words. Something in him told him that this was the end, but he refused to let that shake him. Clarke just knew it. Everything in her told her to hold, and that it was going to be tricky, but she’d be with them soon enough. She just wished he had more faith in her abilities. She already killed a man. She was ready to go all in. It was the only way. 

“Tell her, I’m sorry.” Bellamy shook his head. It sure as hell sounded like good-bye. “That I love her and that we will meet again.” Clarke gulped. “Tell her goodbye.”

“Clarke… I can’t.”

“If I don’t make it, please tell her.” She pressed her palm against her white knight, always standing steady at her side like a loyal pup. She needed this of him. If anything, after everything they’ve ever been through, she needed him to tell Lexa this. “Please.” Bellamy’s cheek drained with the salty waters. He backhanded it with his palm. Clarke searched him deep into his soul. 

“Alright…” He hesitated. “I promise…” Clarke wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing on the tips of her toes, drawing his cheek to her mouth. She pulled away from him, clasping him at the elbow. Bellamy just stared at her, taking her in. 

“I’ve repaid my debt to Lexa and served my penance for Costia by sparing you.” Roan broke the tension, tossing two extra clips on the table. It slid to her. Clarke caught it, shoving them in her pocket. “Just remember, you owe me now.” She nodded at Roan, agreeing with him, but she’d have to tell Lexa about it when she got back. She owed her that much. 

“Be safe, Princess.” He lingered in the door, right behind the prince of Azgeda. Octavia, Murphy, and Raven stared at her over their shoulder, quietly. They took her in one last time. “Come home to us.”

“I plan on it.” She checked her clip. “May we meet again.”

 

Lexa

 

Lexa spun around Titus’s back, kicking the bend of his knee. He collapsed to the pavement outside of the warm garage, into the cool morning air on the opposite side of the street. The sun started to stir over the horizon. Lexa jabbed the razor-like steal to his throat. She slightly yanked it upward, sliding it in a small slice against his stubble, leaving a light, red line, with a few drips of his life. He gasped as the air caught the split exposure. It wasn’t deep enough to eliminate all speech, but enough to assert her complete dominance. Lexa caught his searching arm, twisting it up his back, flinging his chest outward. 

“Whatever your game is, I will stop it.” Lexa growled in a low murmur while Anya swung her restless gaze from the Heda and Titus to Luna. Lexa held on tight, relentlessly denying his struggle.

“No games, Heda. Ask her. Ask Luna.” Lexa pursued the sea of faces, landing on her sister. “She knows about it.” Lexa was hunched over him, legs spread while he sat on his knees. Luna shook her head, mouth parted.

“He’s lying, Lexa.” Luna whined while crossing her nervous arms. Lexa nodded at the confirmation. The knife dug deeper in his Adam’s Apple, while the hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. She could feel his heart pounding hard and fast with her thumb directly under his jawline. It pounded faster in furious thuds, yet, his pulse steadied while speaking about Luna. 

“She’s with President Wallace. She flead the Conclave. Can you really trust her?” He was either telling the truth, or believed his warped version of how things were. But, how the hell did he know that Luna was with President Wallace, Lexa thought. Luna came off as a vigilante toward Azgeda and Trikru, working outside of the government and the law. For a while, even he believed her to be dead. “I may have shot you, but I’ve never lied to you, Heda.”

“Finish him!” Luna was a little too frantic for Lexa’s liking. Titus remained as calm as ever. His pulse steadied, knowing he would die speaking his truth, and Lexa recognized the sheer panic in her sister. Maybe there was some truth to what he was saying. Maybe she did not really know the true purpose of FlouKru. She desperately wanted to give her sister the benefit of the doubt, but Titus was right. He had never lied to her, all of the years that went by, he told Heda what she needed to hear, not what she wanted to. Lexa respected him more for it. There was no reason for him to lie now. 

“What if he’s right.” One of Luna’s heavy brows slanted in strong disapproval. Titus had a way of getting under Lexa’s skin more than anyone, feeding her lines of bullshit that he would consider council. Lexa knew it all too well, but she couldn’t shake the feeling, raising every red flag in her , erected from every orifice. “What if this war is really saving our people?”

“It isn’t, and you know it.” Luna stomped the distance between, nearing close enough that only her and Titus could hear one another in the roar of the windy morn. She stiffened lowering a hand on the Heda’s shoulder. She gazed deep into her conflicted silver-greens. “Lexa, don’t let him get under your skin like he used to!”

“You can end me, Heda, but you can’t save everyone.” He begged with her better angels. Lexa’s duty to save everyone, to get justice for every single person was the driving force behind being a cop; being Heda. Lexa just wasn’t sure who he was talking about, Luna, or himself. Titus told her the same thing after she promised him that she would make it her soul mission to become a cop and take down all of Azgeda for destroying the Spire. She couldn’t understand why Titus ever would have turned to crime instead, unless what he spoke of with Luna was true. He was one for the ends justifying the means, even if it was the wrong thing for the right reasons. Every puzzle piece fell in place, bombarding her with every single fleeting thought she could ever fathom. Lexa exhaled. 

“I won’t let the fear of war dictate our agenda.” She addressed both of her council, one at her side, the other under her grasp. She widened her grip, flinging her fingers out from under the knife, then readjusted her clasp, tightening it under Titus’s jaw. It was no use. She had to end this, even if she just wanted to bring him in and have him answer for his crimes. She couldn't’ lose him too, after Gustus, but blood must have blood. That was their way, and Titus would fall on his own sword before capture.She had to end this, no matter what the cost would do to her. “We will end this.”

“Heda, please.” He made one last futile attempt, and he knew it. He knew it was as useless as pasta in a driver’s seat. It just didn’t make any logical sense anymore, and Lexa wasn't listening to his reason. He relaxed completely, coming to peace under the one girl he treasured most in the world, loving her like she was biologically his. Lexa knew it better than anyone. She clutched her teeth. Was he this calm and collected when he shot her? Lexa thought.

“You’ve always taught me there’s always another way, Teacher.” She released his arm from his back, making him as comfortable in his public execution. A sharp pain filled her heart. She lowered the blade from his throat. Titus’s jaw fell slack, craning his neck toward her. “I know you’ve meant well, but if it is the case, I’ll stop it somehow. I always do.” He spun on his knee, facing the Heda head on. She concealed her weakness for the man, despite everything. He was the first friendly face after her parents passed. He was the first person to make her believe she could be more for this world, not just this rage filled gay girl running around, angry with the universe. He taught her how to conceal those feelings, channeling them into pure focus. She was just a kid when she took the hit, but Titus was always there. 

“Your friends are being killed.” He nodded at her, speaking unsaid words: It’s okay Heda. It’s time. Lexa gulped hard. She wanted to reach out to the last remnant of her childhood and innocence. It would truly, truly be over as soon as he fell. She could do what had to be done, saving Clarke, but she held her breath and prayed for the world to end in that instance. “They are on the fourth level. Nia already killed one of them. That boy…”

“Bellamy?!” Lexa stiffened, frightened of losing him as well. If he was gone, that meant that Clarke was unprotected. She trusted Octavia, but she’d be a basket case, and Raven could barely hold her own in hand to hand after surviving the bullet to the spine. Clarke was in trouble. She had to get up there, and avenge her brother. 

“No, the bearded one.” Titus picked up on her worry. Lexa’s shoulders fell in some sort of comfort, which was displaced, yet again, realizing that was Derrek. They finally got him. 

“No… You lie…” Luna’s ribcage sunk into her stomach with each pant. She paced back and forth on the cold concrete, filling her long fingers with the tufts of her wild hair. “YOU LIE!!!” She charged toward Titus, drawing back her fist, bringing it down to strike him. Lexa caught her wrist before she could drive it down. He was already a dead man, and didn’t have to tell them their location to save them. She just had to end this before anyone else was killed. Luna sunk to her knees, cradling them against her chest, hyperventilating. Her husband was gone and there was no bringing him back. No magic lazarus, no form of reincarnation: nothing. He was gone and Lexa had to carry on for both of them. 

“Thank you for telling me, Titus.” She bowed her face toward her teacher, softening her voice for what she was about to do. Her body was at peace, even though her mind wasn’t. She brought the blade back up toward Titus’s Adam’s Apple. He graciously leaned into it. “Yu gonplei ste odon.” Titus lowered his loving grasp overtop of her bladed fist, steadying her growing tremor. 

“Ste yuj, Heda.” He softened his piercing blue icicles into a light flurry of snow, holding his breath. Lexa lowered her mournful lids, nodding that she knew he was ready. She slowly drove her knife deep into his artery, careful to not spray his force, merely letting it trickle from him, humming his favorite tune he used to sing to her to get her to sleep in the early months at the Spire, lowering him on the concrete. She knelt down beside him, while he gurgled. He reached out to her. “I… always loved you… Heda. Moba.-Forgive me.-” Lexa kept humming, her wells spilling over the ducts. She quickly wiped it with her shirt, feeling his pulse slow into a stillness. Titus was gone, along with her childhood and the last remnant of a parent she’d ever known. 

A silhouette of slow moving, stumbling people emerged from the shadow of the parking garage across the street from them. Anya, Lexa and Luna stiffened, along with the rest of FlouKru, aiming their weapons directly down the sights. 

“Woah, woah! Don’t Shoot!” Murphy rang out, Raven’s arm wrapped around his neck, while Octavia propped her up. Bellamy trailed slowly behind, holding a limp, masculine body. His jaw was clenched, sucking in deep breaths of fresh air he was so deprived of earlier. Medics rushed toward the group, scooping up Raven, pointing toward a car near them. Octavia and Murphy set her down directly where they were pointing to. Bellamy slogged behind. Lexa’s heart stopped. She searched her sister, whose realization of who he carried weighed in her. 

“NO!!” Luna rushed to her man, her hand flooded to her mouth. “D-Derrek…” She slumped toward the earth below. Lexa never saw her like this before: so broken. Their brother and parents didn’t even weigh as heavily in her sorrow. Her wide eyes bloomed with oceans, crashing waves on the sand. Her shallow, rapid breathing plumed an eruption, provoking her rock, back and forth on the concrete. Bellamy gingerly set him down in her broken arms.

“Where is she?” Lexa scanned the group, relieved to see almost everyone alive. Bellamy stood back up, after gently laying Derrek’s head in Luna’s arms, while she hunched over her husband’s body, wailing an inhuman, mournful howl. “Where’s Clarke?!” Lexa glanced past everyone. Worry crept like bile after one too many glasses of wine. She wasn’t lagging behind, like she normally did. Bellamy’s solemn glow to his chiseled face spoke every unsaid word, answering every question, but Lexa needed the vocal confirmation. He was shaken, distant, finding his footing to stand before the Heda. She scanned the building once more, on that cold street corner.

“She’s still in there.” Lexa’s pink cheeks drained of all color, painting her face more white than the first blanket of untouched snow. Blood stained her sticky hands, which she clasped tight, digging her nails into the bends of her trembling palm. She charged in a sudden dash, but Bellamy jumped in front of her, raising his hands to his chest level, denying the Heda’s advances. She bobbed around his side. He followed his denial, laying gentle, yet firm hands on her shoulders. “No, Lexa.” Pure consternation swelled in her chest, filling her up where her heart once resided, which sunk deep into her stomach. Her light-headed, blind, dread swam in the void of her empty thoughts. Clarke was still in there, unprotected. “You can’t!”

Bellamy shifted once more with her sway, notably quaking in his own trepidation. Lexa was brought back to Anya’s denial, all those years ago at the Spire. She knew damn well Clarke would do something stupid and completely alone if it meant saving her and everyone she ever loved. She wouldn’t mind sacrificing herself to save her people. She proved it when Arkadia was under siege, staying by Lexa’s side the entire way, even up to her sudden stabbing. She had to get around Bellamy, somehow. Unlike the Spire, she still had time… She still could go in and save her. Clarke was vital to her survival, teaching her the courage to let herself love and feel after Costia, after Aden, and even after Gustus and Titus’s betrayal. Lexa’s ears sank back with a crazed twitch in her silver-greens, balling her long fingers, drawing her blade against her brother, who crouched below, scooping a fallen AR-15, aiming it at her kneecap. Clarke would have wanted him to stop her at all costs, and Lexa knew it. That cumbersome weight pulled her toward the Earth, sinking her deep into the pool of crimson swarming around her soiled boot from Titus. She aligned the blade with her forearm.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t get the FUCK OUT OF MY WAY, BLAKE!” She grinded her fangs, silent, frantic, frustrated tears streaming down her long cheekbones.

“I can’t, Lexa. For Clarke…” His matted hair shrouded his jaded eyes, tears also streaming while he trembled like an old train on a rickety bridge. Bellamy slumped his shoulders, swallowing the lump in his throat. It almost seemed that she was already gone, and he knew something she didn’t. She charged at him and he shot a warning at her foot. Anya perked up, stomping toward the two. Lexa backed up a pace, sliding her hand to the side, stopping her partner from advancing on the man. This was between the two of them, and Lexa needed answers. “I can’t let you go.” Lexa needed to find out, her shortness in breath stilled, brows meeting in the center. She stumbled another pace backward, shaking her head. ‘This can’t be happening. Not again…’ She thought. She’d give anything for it to just be a dream. She had to have been in a coma or something from the blood loss. She had to have collapsed. She slapped herself to Bellamy’s bewildered eyes. She was very much so awake. 

BOOM!!! Everyone turned to face the hotel, the ground quaking like the rumblings of a 7.0 earthquake and a roll of fire, like the lift off of a rocket, spewed out of the lower lobby across the block. The group was lucky they were at a safe distance away, but the heat was like pouring gasoline on a bonfire a few inches away. It singed off some of their arm hair. The entire infrastructure collapsed on itself, blowing out shattered glass everywhere, raining down on everyone. The ricochet of falling pebbles pelted them. They were far enough away from the blast to not be seriously injured. A plume of white smoke filled the early sunrise, poking its head over the horizon. It wafted over the team, painting them in a white powder.

“CLARKE!!!” Lexa ran toward the building, dropping her knife. Bellamy was wide eyed, stunned at what just went on. She had done it, but she wasn’t there. She should have been running out of there. Lexa stopped dead in her tracks, throwing her hands on the top of her head, then down toward her knees, prying her hazy eyes toward the wreckage. It was void of life. The only movement came from falling rubble and engulfing fires. Anya crept near her with Bellamy. He set a hand on her shoulder. 

“S-She said she’s sorry…” He barely choked out the words. “That she loves you.”

“No. I won’t accept that.” Lexa smacked away his comfort. She charged toward the building once more. Anya caught one arm while Bellamy caught the other, pulling her backward while her kingdom come fell around her tattered boot. “CLARKE!!!!!” She elbowed Bellamy in the gut and Anya in the jaw. Anya released her grasp. The Heda flung out of her denial, but Bellamy was stronger. He held on for dear life. “LET ME GO!” She screeched. “CLARKE!!!” Lexa sunk to her knees, wide eyed in the rain of rubble washing over her. She scooped up the powder from the middle of the road, while Bellamy held her hand at the level of her eyes. He dropped to his knees in front of her, stoically rolling his tears, while Lexa scrunched into a hysteric lament. 

“ Heda… I know.” He pressed her head against his chest, setting his lips to the top of her blood filled locks. Lexa pushed herself out of his embrace, but he held on tighter, jostling around. 

“Why didn’t you take her!?” She freed herself from his grasp, wiggling like a feral beast, socking his jaw with the hard of her knuckle. He lowered his eyelids to die with the night, while the sun rose above their heads. “WHY DIDN’T YOU STAY?!” She punched him again, then again and again. His lip lay bloody, black and blue, spitting out a molar. “YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED!!!!”

“I love her too, Lexa…” He couldn’t look at her. He had never seen Lexa so broken, so ruptured beyond any feasible repair. “She wouldn’t have done what needed to be done if I did.” He sat, pressing Lexa into his chest, holding as tight as he possibly could, rocking her. Anya set her hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. He peered up toward her, while Lexa wept, soaking his shirt in her salty, hot floods. 

“W-why… Why did you do it?” She wasn’t here anymore. She wasn’t anywhere anymore. Clarke was gone and she couldn’t save her. She couldn’t hold onto anyone, and for the first time, she truly knew the meaning of isolation. Not even Costia crushed her entire will to carry on. Azgeda was dead: Costia avenged. She had no idea that it would make her lose Clarke too. “Why did you leave me… C-Clarke, why?!”

“Shh… I know…” Bellamy bowed his head on her shoulder. 

“YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN WITH HER!!! YOU SHOULD HAVE SAVED HER!!”

“Shh…” He buried his face within her neck, propping his knees up around the broken Heda. Raven clasped her hand over her mouth, tears pouring down her solemn face. Octavia stared, unblinking into the abyss of the rubble. Charred remains and ash dusted overtop of them. A black skull popped out of the building, crashing at their feet with a residual explosion from the rest of the pressures. It rocked back and forth, landing at Lexa’s feet, who inspected the, notably female, charred remains. She bursted an unrelenting, wolfish howl from her lungs, kicking it away from her. 

She couldn’t be gone. She couldn’t… Lexa ran her hands through her hair toward her ears, curling into a fetal position within Bellamy’s embrace. He shut his scorn lids, curling himself around the Heda, scooping her into him and breathing in her essence. Bellamy rested his lips on the crook of her neck, then rested his eyes there. 

“No…” Murphy whimpered, pressing his hand to his throat and chest, holding himself together. Octavia sat next to Raven, needing to brace herself. They just peered into the abyss of the plume, flames roasting the remnants of the area. Anya looked to her partner, lost in complete torment. Lexa’s entire frame shook like an addict in withdrawal, coming down cold turkey, huddled in Bellamy’s care. He wrapped a hand around her forehead, shielding her eyes from the wreckage. Lexa pried it from her haunted vision, wilting deep within him. Anya couldn’t even tell if she was breathing. Her chest refused to rise. Lexa buried her hands in her head, leaning her entire weight into Bellamy. He swallowed the rock in his throat. 

“I tried…” He whispered in Lexa’s ear. “I…” Lexa doubled over out of his embrace, her elbow lodged in her stomach, craning her neck to the heavens while thick drops of Jupiter danced down the streams of her waterfalls. Her trembling lip sobbed with a breathy waver in her screech. She didn’t even know she uttered a sound. Everyone stared at the two. None of them, not even Luna ever experienced the Heda as Lexa. Bellamy came close before, but there was no doubt in their mind that Lexa’s love was true. Anya couldn’t hold anymore. She broke, pushing her fingers into her eyes. Costia had shaken her… But this. This was new for everyone. 

“I’m coming…” Lexa muttered, in a haunting, stillness. “I’m coming for you, Clarke.” Her entire core shifted into a lifeless limp. “Anywhere you lead, I’ll follow. Oso throu daun ogeda.”

“Lexa?” Bellamy whispered in her ear, tilting his head. Lexa slowly fell forward, reaching for a downed Azgeda knife. “Lexa, what are you?” She grasped the flip blade, flinging it out with her thumb. She slowly drew it toward her forearm. “LEXA, NO!” Bellamy shoved his hand over top of hers, while the steal met his flesh. His denial shocked her, snapping her out of her head. He winced, but knocked it out of her fingers, squeezing her tighter, fusing in her. “This isn’t you, Heda. Come on, Woods. Don’t you dare give up! You don’t get to give up! I didn’t when she chose you. Twice!” She wiggled out of his grasp, but he caught her, harshly yanking her back in his embrace.

“Let me go!” Lexa kicked against him. 

“No.”

“I said, LET ME GO!!”

“I’m not letting you go, Lexa!” She elbowed him in the face, splitting his lip further. “I’m never letting you go again. I love you, Lexa. I can’t lose you too!” 

“W-what?!” Lexa ceased. She couldn’t have heard him correctly.

“I love you, Lexa Woods. You’re my little sister, just like Octavia.” He held on tighter. “I’m not…”

Suddenly, a small, silhouetted frame limped, staggering like a zombie. It was clutching their arm, promptly dropping a small pistol. It staggered behind a few paces, noticing the group, including the broken Heda. An all too familiar voice erupted through the silent violence like the phantom wail of a banshee.

“LEXA?!” The figure grew closer and closer toward them. Lexa strained her eyes toward the feminine figure, rubbing them in full disbelief. The sounds of pulling Heaven down, rained upon the broken woman. She could have been seeing a ghost, but Bellamy’s frozen soul told her another story. His embrace dropped from the Heda, wide eyed. She scanned the others. Their faces were just as white as his. It had to be HER. It had to.

“C-Clarke?!” She called out, rubbing her puffy silver-greens, leaning out of Bellamy’s bewildered embrace. She reached toward the figure. It neared closer, limping in a white dusting. Lexa knew that silhouette anywhere. It was Clarke. She was alive. She made it. “CLARKE!!!!” Lexa completely lept out of Bellamy’s aura, slipping on the rubble, slamming her chin hard into the pavement. Little speckles of nightblood pooled to the surface with the sudden scraping. Lexa did not avert her vision from the woman in front of her. She pulled herself back to her feet, while the others observed in a daze, unable to fathom the miracle before them. Lexa charged at top speed, steady streams trailing behind in her sprint.

“LEXA!!!!” Clarke cried out, charging toward her beloved. She reached out toward the Heda. Bellamy sucked in a deep breath, noting that it was her voice, not just a visage. Clarke sprinted, limping as she hobbled along. Lexa met her,colliding within Clarke’s deep embrace. She toppled over top of Clarke, collapsing to the pavement like a sack of rocks. Lexa held on for dear life, climbing on top of her like a pup seeing their human after a week apart. Lexa buried her face in the crook of her neck, then traced her quaking lips to her temple, slamming her nose on her shoulder, sobbing into her. She curled a hand around the back of Clarke, wrapping her legs around Clarke’s waist to absorb in the tattered blonde. She pulled away, sitting her upright to look at her, searching every crevice of the woman. She wasn’t a phantom, come back to haunt her. Clarke was flesh and blood. She was alive. That’s all that mattered. Azgeda was dead, and SHE was alive.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this final installment of Only You, 
> 
> Clarke is alive, the war has been won. 
> 
> What will this mean for our ladies who have sacrificed so much?
> 
> Will they be happy?
> 
> Will Clarke be damaged beyond repair?
> 
> Will they leave, or will they stay?
> 
> Find out in this final chapter of Only You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!!!!!!!!!!!!! TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> This is the very last chapter of Only You! I'm excited to see what you guys think of it! I will have a special announcement at the end! Thank you all for your love and support in this fic! <3 you, Kru!

Chapter 17

 

Clarke: 10 Minutes Ago

 

Darkness accompanying darkness, with only a little light, bore through the small rivets in the sturdy, hot vents. Clarke could hardly contain the sneezes from the caked-on mountains of dust lying about the aluminum and steel infrastructure, dragging in her open wounds, burning them with slight irritation. Crawling on her hands and knees, she passed one area, making the turn where Roan had stated to do so, or at least she hoped so. The heat intensified, sweat profusely bubbling out of her pours. There was no doubt in her mind, she was headed in the right direction. Every noise echoed in those vents, ringing deep in her head. From the murmurs to the pounding boots on the ground, Clarke focused on anything but the loud thuds filling her ears, reverberating around in high pitched shrills. She pressed on, slowly creeping forward, making sure that her boots did not scuff up the reinforced aluminum. She was damn surprised that it was able to carry her weight, especially since the metal is so thin. The dust stifled her noises while Azgeda boots and weapons clicks were easily permissible for the small echoes above, she could not contain.

She slowly passed through one harder lump than normal. ‘A wall.’ She thought, sitting patiently for a moment. She didn’t know if she went too far or just met one of the rooms close by where she would pop out of the ceiling from. She pressed her ear to the dirt and muck, glancing through a small hole in a missing rivet. Ringing poured through the vents with hushed, carless whispers and laughter from other Azgeda agents, not attacking the love of her life at the moment, awaiting for orders on standby. They had some program on that one hardly paid attention to. One sat on his phone, while the other pressed his elbows to his knees, with an intense boom of timpani drums pouring through the speakers. He relaxed a moment, sitting back in his seat on the broken couch. Clarke shuffled above with soft thuds, timing them in between commercial breaks. 

“What was that?” One of them called out as soon as Clarke’s boot hit the side of the shaft, spasming out of control. She curled it into herself, drawing her firearm from the back of her pants. The flatscreen silenced, followed by a sudden plop on a wooden surface. Clarke laid incredibly still, holding her breath. In the corroded crack of the vent, she spotted the two, jolting up from the couch with a few springs popping out of the back. She covered her mouth and nose, containing a sneeze. Caked on dust wiggled in her nostrils. She did not need this kind of setback, especially since time was not on her side. Lexa could be dead and Nia fleeing for all she knew. She had to get out of the damn heat and set all of their asses ablaze for what they’ve done.

The two guards scurried across the room, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. One of them flipped out a butterfly knife, while the other unclasped a pistol from their holster on their leg. Clarke was damn sure she’d have to take them out, risking her cover while the other Azgeda agents followed suit, replacing them. She didn’t want to shoot them, but she had no choice. It was either them or her. The man’s throat she slit waged wars in her head with the knowledge that two more would be added to her body count. The two held up suddenly, listening for any more booms. Luckily for Wanheda, they scavenged anywhere but up. A sudden noise came crashing through the floorboards, banging around in metals that were similar to the noise her boot made. Clarke held her breath. 

The two crept closer silently, weapons at the ready. The one with the gun lagged behind, while the other with the knife flung it a couple times, spinning it around in intricate twirls, dancing in his fingers. He forcefully ripped off a box under the source of this strange noise. Maybe it was Lexa, Clarke thought. She needed to get the hell down there. Suddenly, a fluffy grey thing scurried across the room, kicking the metal trash can once more. One of the guards squealed, spotting the hairy creature with a worm-like tail. They breathed easy, one flipping the knife back into the confines of his pocket, while the other shoved his pistol back into its holster.

“Just a damn rat.” The one with the gun boomed to the other in a rasp. Clarke was damn grateful, blowing out hot air from her lungs. “Nia really needs to clean up this shithole.” The two stretched, settling back down on the sofa, while Clarke deeply exhaled, careful not to draw anymore unwanted attention to herself. She staggered for just a moment longer until they turned the volume back on the television. The program returned from break. She slowly crept against the timpani’s boom. 

“Lovejoy, Otan we need you to check the boiler room.” One of their comms crackled, radioing in commands. “Suspicious activity reported around there. Nia’s orders.” The comms crackled to a stillness. Clarke stopped, peering through another corroded hole. The guard with the salty blonde hair stood up, smacking his hands on his pants, flipping out his blade just for show, while the other rolled his eyes, adjusting his hat. 

“Come on, Otan. It’s just down the hall.” He withdrew his pistol. 

“You got the keys, Lovejoy?” Otan spun the bite handle around his thumb, catching the safe, flipping the knife down, then back up to reveal the blade without even looking at it. He aligned it with the side of his forearm.

“You mean keycard? Yeah. It’s right here.” He patted his pocket on his front pouch. Clarke needed it. If she dropped inside the room, the security measures would go off, or worse, she would drop directly into the boiler and/or cook alive. It was already getting toasty. She needed to follow them on foot. Lovejoy pressed on.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna take that?” Otan pointed toward a tactical knife laying on the table. Lovejoy shook his head.

“If there’s gonna be mayhem, I’d rather my gun to that piece of shit. No room in my pockets for it.” He shrugged it off.

“Fair enough.” Otan left it at that. He clapped Lovejoy on the back, pushing him out the door. “After you.” Clarke waited momentarily. She needed to trail them, but she didn’t need them storming back inside. She held her breath, counting back from ten to one before sliding to a sit inside the area, kicking at the corroded stretch. It slowly bent with each press of her boot, careful not to have the constant banging alert anyone nearby. If it had, they probably did not care anyway, while a small boom rattled the entire infrastructure. 

Clarke popped out of the vent, dropping to her feet. She stretched herself out, picking up Lovejoy’s knife, noting an open window. She quickly glanced below her. The skybridge lay in tatters while FlouKru swarmed around the entrance of the building. In the hole of the rubble going into the parking garage, she spotted HER. Clarke’s heart raced a billion times a millisecond in her chest. She was alive! But, she was in trouble. Everything made sense. She knew her purpose. She had to destroy Azgeda. It was the only way to save her people and make damn sure Lexa was okay. She was just grateful that Lexa wasn’t in the building. It made everything more bearable.

She slowly crept toward the door, crouching low, peeking her head out of it. She was all clear. The two were close enough to follow, but rounding the walkway. Clarke stayed low, rushing the corridor, stopping lip to lip of dips in the room entrances. Crimson carpet with crossing black patterns bothered her eyes, distracting her from the issues at hand. She shook her head, sliding out the clip, then popped it back in. The lights overhead flickered on and off, violently strobing out, closing near the boiler room. She didn’t quite understand why it wasn’t in the basement, per any building code, but she just rolled with it. They stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall. Lovejoy ejected his keycard, nodding to Otan. Clarke couldn’t stay behind cover anymore. She had to make her move, and make it fast. 

She charged behind with padfooted steps, Lovejoy’s knife ejected in her palm, pistol in the other. Rapid fire popped down a floor below. ‘Perfect’ she thought. She’d be able to use her weapons without anyone thinking anything differently. Otan followed behind Lovejoy. She reached him, diving into the back of his knee with both of her feet, dropping him. He plunged quick, grunting with the intense force of her heels blowing out his kneecap, cracking the bone of his tibia. The jagged end of the snap jetted out of his pants, spewing forth plasma in little gushes. Clarke plunged the knife in the side of his artery, making it deep, followed by a slash. He gurgled, alerting Lovejoy. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” The remaining guard spun around, noting Clarke on the ground with Otan gurgling out the warm crimson from his mouth, spraying on the walls as she quickly ejected the knife. She threw it at him, but the blunt end bounced off of his chest. He began firing wildly. Clarke rolled Otan overtop, catching the bullets like a human meat shield. She returned three pops. One whizzed by his head, one hit him center mass, the last between the eyes. Lovejoy’s graymatter spritzed out the opposite end with the through and through, splashing the entrance like a Jackson Pollock. He slumped, to Clarke, in slow motion, propping open the door to the boiler room. She quaked. All those days in the range with Octavia and Raven paid off, but she just couldn’t stop shaking. She had taken two more lives. What was worse, she knew their names. But, just like Lexa would say, this was war. She had to keep fighting, no matter the costs. She had to, Doctor’s Oath be damned.

She caught notice of shuffling running up the hall. There was no time to hide the bodies, and the blood sprays would give everything away. As long as she had the keycard, she’d be okay. She fumbled in Lovejoy’s top pocket, popping her head up to peer at the shadows nearing. She grabbed it, kicking him out of the door, slamming it behind her. Shuffling boots popped outside. Some suddenly stopped, the others stormed back down the opposite end. Clarke turned her attention to the large tanks on the sides of the walls with pipes and wires leading in every direction. Panic swelled like bile creeping in her throat, for she didn’t know exactly what she was looking for. 

“Pressure gauge, pressure gauge…” Clarke murmured under her breath. “Where the FUCK are you?!” Thrusts of rapping on the door pounded. The red lights overhead flickered on and off.

“Open up in there!” Deep voices mixed with some variations of Trigedasleng threw about insults and demands. She had to hurry. Big, thick propane tanks and pouring heat filled the small room. Roan was pretty vague when he said to flip the switches. The thudding on the door resumed, harder than ever. “I said open up!”

“Come on, Clarke… Come on, come on!!!” She rubbed the tank meters of their caked on dust and residue with the pad of her thumb. The butts of rifles smashed against the locked door. She was out of time and out of luck. “FUCK IT!” Clarke twisted each and every single valve in the place, ripping piping from the walls, filling up the area with steam. She waved her hands in front of her face, coughing profusely with the wreaking of natural gases and rolling water vapor, singeing her skin. Her once pale was replaced with the redness of a lobster. She grabbed a spare tubing, shifting it up toward the vents, letting it pour through it. There was one more that she had missed labeled “Hydrogen Sulfide” while another tank was labeled “Butane”.

“Oh SHIT!” Clarke cried out. Nia really did have the place rigged to blow. The mixture of the four gases with a spark would cause a catastrophic explosion. She held her breath while opening up the valves, letting it pour through the ventilation system. More banging sounded off, ricocheting around the small boiler room. She was stuck. 

“No one is in there. The light is off. Must of gone out the window.” She heard a familiar raspy booming voice. The thudding suddenly stopped. Clarke couldn’t believe it, like some deus ex machina suddenly saved her ass. She was choking on the fumes. 

“Sir, you’re bleeding.” Their cumbersome, authoritative voices softened into a respectful authority. 

“Yeah. Bastard got me.” There was no denying that voice. It was Roan. He came for her. “Gather your men. My mother needs you on the upper level. She’s on the top floor.” He growled. Clarke sucked in a small breath, choking on the gasses but contained herself. 

“Sir.” The clatter of boots booming ran out of the area. Clarke just had to hold out a moment longer. The air in her scorched her lungs, the gasses watered her eyes. She needed that all clear. She needed… Knock, kn-knock, knock. Roan thudded in a small pattern with the back of his knuckle. 

“Wanheda, it’s okay to open up.” Clarke didn’t know if she could trust him, but if she stayed in there any further, she would suffocate to death. So, she slowly creaked open the handle, holding her pistol to his face. He didn’t look too hot, hunched over from where she stabbed him., clinging to the frame of the door with one hand. “Mind pointing that thing someplace else? I mean unless you wanna blow the entire goddamn building prematurely.” Clarke lowered her pistol.

“What are you doing here?” She raised an inquisitive brow, sternly breathing out.

“Safe passage.” He shrugged.

“You couldn’t just lead me here?!” Clarke snarled. She filled her fist with his collar, scrunching it up about to deck him in the face. “I had to kill again!”

“Couldn’t risk it. Besides, you’re gonna be killing a lot more than that.” Roan sighed to her release and Clarke’s weapon drawn back at his temple. “And, I told you. I’d save you, but you owe me one.” She lowered it. Roan sighed, shuffling in his pocket, tossing her a cell. “I’ll be contacting you on this when it’s all said and done. Got the valves?” Clarke nodded. “Good. Put this on, and follow me.” He tossed her a cloak he pulled from the back of his pants that would cover her hair and half of her face. She did as she was told, throwing it on. It wreaked of stale cigarettes and piss. He looped an arm around her, using her to prop himself up.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Clarke bit his head off.

“Do you want safe passage or not?” Roan grunted like she were an idiot. Clarke remained silent. She couldn’t believe she was complying with this creep, but Lexa was out there and she didn’t know of a better option. She sucked her pride and they pressed on. 

Walking down to the service elevators at the opposite end of the wing, several Azgeda guards nodded, granting respects to the wounded Prince of Azgeda, questioning who the girl was and offering consultation for his wounds. He replied she was his personal consort and medic getting him out of there for real treatment. He made up some story that he killed the mighty Wanheda, but she almost took him out first. They cheered him on in bewilderment that their Prince was stronger than the commander of death. Clarke and Roan finally passed into the shaft of the service elevator at the opposite end. As soon as it closed and began moving, Roan pulled the emergency stop button, sliding to sit down. 

“Okay, Wanheda. This is where we part ways for now. I’m slipping out the back. You’ve got a job.” He yanked Clarke’s pistol from her. Clarke lunged forward to grab it back, but he was only checking her clip. “Two in the chamber. Huh.” He grunted handing the butt back to her. She graciously took it, shoving it in her pants, dropping to a knee. Clarke ripped off the cloak, tearing the fabric with her fingers, wrapping it around his wounds like a tourniquet. It should at least be enough to get him out of there, if he made it. She wasn’t very hopeful at the moment with the loss of blood. “There’s about four hundred fifty in here. Better make em count.”

“Why are you doing this? What’s in it for you?” She raised a skeptical brow, finishing her patch job. Roan leaned in close, letting her wrap him with the piss soaked, torn cloak. It was enough to cover his face so he could slip away. Roan released the emergency button.

“You’re not the only one trying to do what is right for your people.” He stumbled against the railing, pulling himself back up. “We will talk about it later. You’ve got that phone.” The elevator dingged. “Just remember… You owe me.” The metal doors opened up on the ground floor level. He wrapped his arm around Clarke once more, stumbling out of the shaft. Azgeda were all on the opposite end fighting with FlouKru. Roan pointed down a corridor. “That passage leads you to the front near the garage. Last reports, Heda was there. Remember, you’ve two shots. Hit the metal, cause a spark.” He staggered off of Clarke’s arm. “Make ‘em count. There’s more than enough pressure in that building by now.”

“Your mother will die, Roan.”

“I’m aware. Her soul has been damned for a long, long time.” Clarke couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He was consistent in his story from when he tore Arkadia asunder. She appreciated that at least. “Now, go. You’ve not much time. I’ll be fine from here.” Clarke’s confusion read all over her face, but that was all she needed to hear. She took off sprinting, faster than a jet at mach two, leaving the Prince behind. “May we meet again.” He called back to her. She had to get down to Lexa at all costs. Nothing was going to stop her now. She kept running and running, blindly tripping until a small glint of light from under the steps of the lobby appeared. 

Rubble laid around everywhere in the bloodbath of the once gracious, gorgeous hotel. Her father presented engineering keynotes here before his passing. She even presented her own dissertation, becoming a doctor at this place for the members of the CDC with her work on reversing radiation effects in the event of nuclear fallout. And now, this old haven of science and technology was the headquarters of Azgeda. It was bittersweet, but she had a job. She rushed away, leaping overtop of metals and bodies. Some were friend, others foe. But, she had to do it. She had to take the entire sonofabitch down. Clarke ran a safe distance outside, for her, turning around toward the building after meeting the middle of the street. Clarke aimed that pistol toward the metal overtop of the shattered glass side door. She fired once. It missed, lodging in the concrete steps. 

Azgeda agents spotted her, charging her from the lobby. She had to make this last one count. They began firing at her. Clarke ducked behind a hanging body crushed between the rubble of the sky bridge remnants. She came eye to eye with his open eyes. She recognized the boy. He was a member of the Sky Force and couldn’t have been more than seventeen years old. She cringed, gritting her fangs, popping her head above the rubble. She steadied herself, aiming above, but had to quickly duck with a bullet flying overhead. She jolted back up once more, praying with the sudden pop from her discharged weapon.

BOOM!!! The pressures of the gas engulfed the entire area, raining shrapnel in every nook and cranny, threatening to split the earth in two like a 7.0 earthquake on the epicenter. The force from the heat and shock threw Clarke clear across the street, smacking her into the garage building concrete. She landed on her face, splitting her eyebrow in two. High pitched shrills rang out in her bleeding ears, fogging her vision. Clarke shielded her head with dusts and flying debris skyrocketing toward her. Those bullets flying overhead were suddenly quiet, and she slipped from the waking world. 

A brief moment later, she shook her fuzzy head, groaning with the pressures of a large piece of rubble overtop of her leg. She cried out in panic, unable to get free from it, or even feel it. She cried out, but no sound crippled from her lungs. She was stuck, and for a brief moment, she thought she was going to die here. Clarke couldn’t give up. She scanned the bloody carnage, smoke rolling around the remnants of the once gracious Hotel, looking for anything at all to take the rubble off of her.

Clarke spotted a long steel pipe. She waved her arms toward it, and as she did, she finally felt the sharp pang of pressures in that leg, screaming out in pure agony. After puffing out her cheeks like a woman in labor, she lunged for it once more, catching it with her slippery, bloody fingers. She breathed, giving herself a moment before setting it underneath like a lever, pushing it off of her. Clarke was filled from head to toe with white, painting a ghostly visage across every contour of her body. Once she got the large rubble off, she wiggled her toes. ‘Nothing broken’, she thought. That was good. She was just sore as all hell, unable to pick herself back up for a moment. She sat there, the ash and dust washing overtop of her in the cool air. The flames engulfed the building with smaller booms. She’d done it… But that number droned in her head. Four hundred fifty people were all silenced by her hand. She laid back down, pushing her fingers into her eyes, letting a few sobbs roll off her tongue, tears running in the corners, washing away the white powder with the thick streams. She couldn't just lay here. 

One name popped in her head, gifting her the strength to carry on: Lexa. She pushed that number deep into herself, lifting off the ground, and rushed as quick as she could toward the area she last saw her in Otan and Lovejoy’s room. She limped, staggering like a zombie away from the shattered glass that rained around her. Clarke couldn’t believe that she had done it. She killed so many people, but all of that would be for nothing if SHE wasn’t alive. She was in the air she breathed, in the path she walked, in the words she spoke. Lexa was the reason why the Gods created Love. All of the broken souls will never make her whole, but only Lexa could save her from damnation: only her. Clarke just kept stumbling, slowly. There may have been a few survivors, but she was damn sure Nia was dead. She had to be. She was clutching her throbbing arm, blinking away the blood from her eyes and promptly dropping a small pistol. Her fight was over. She just had to make the rendezvous point to get to Lexa. She hoped to all the Gods in the universe that Lexa was breathing: that she was safe. It was a prayer, that was likely to have fallen on deaf ears. She prepared herself for the worst, staggering toward the group filling her foggy vision. 

“LEXA?!” She strained her eyes to the two figures clutching hold of each other so tight, they could fuse together. She could have been seeing ghosts, but it had to have been Bellamy. She just hoped, by the way he held her, she wasn’t too late; that she was okay. Every form of pure terror filled her voids. She wasn’t moving. Clarke shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. Bellamy clutched her so tight that she must have fallen and Clarke was too late. It was her fault. It was all her fault. If she would have just listened to Lexa, she’d still be there. Clarke stumbled a few paces back, her hand flooded to her mouth. “No…” She murmured to herself. She’s not here. She’s not anywhere anymore and she’s just like Derrek, void of her beautiful essense. She panted into a hyperventilation with every single wave of energy striking her down. She should have let Nia kill her because no life was worth living if SHE wasn’t with her. She was just there! She was just alive but now… Now...

“C-Clarke?!” Lexa called out in the distance, rubbing her silver-greens that Clarke adored so much, leaning out of Bellamy’s embrace, reaching toward the figure. Clarke’s heart skipped more than a beat, to the point it was unhealthy and heavy. She shook her head, unable to fathom the sounds of pulling heaven down. It had to be a ghostly haunting. She had to be hallucinating. She had to get over there at all costs, just to check. It was HER. She neared closer, limping in a white dusting. Clarke thought she must look like a ghost to everyone, but she didn’t care. She had to get to her. “CLARKE!!!!” Lexa completely lept out of Bellamy’s embrace, slipping on the rubble, slamming her chin hard into the pavement. Clarke sprinted, dashing in her hobble toward the angel sent from Heaven. She wasn’t a phantom! She was okay. By the skin of her teeth, she was alive! Clarke clutched at her aching heart, her lip quivering in such beautiful vulnerability. She darted in Lexa’s direction. Lexa refused to avert her vision from the woman in front of her. She pulled herself back to her feet, while the others observed in a daze, unable to fathom the miracle before them. Lexa charged at top speed. Steady streams trailed behind Clarke, while she rushed her.

“LEXA!!!!” Clarke cried out, pushing herself harder toward her beloved. She reached out to the Heda, even though her body was about to give in. She didn’t give a shit anymore, pushing through every torn muscle and limp stunting her, blood dripping in a trail behind her. The world fell away. She pushed the sharp snaps out of her head. All that mattered was Lexa. Clarke couldn’t notice anything else, not even the once stabbing shards of glass poking through her tattered boot, cutting up her foot. 

Lexa met her, colliding within Clarke’s deep embrace, holding as tight as one too many rubberbands around a balloon. She toppled over top of her, collapsing to the pavement like a sack of rocks. Lexa clung to her for dear life, climbing on top of her like a pup seeing their human after a week apart. Clarke’s heart fell heavy, sinking in her stomach. Icy fingers curled their mits around it, tugging at it, sucking the life from her. Lexa buried her face in the crook of her neck, then traced her quaking lips to her temple, slamming her nose on her shoulder, sobbing into her neck. She curled a hand around the back of Clarke’s head, coiling her legs around her waist to absorb in the blonde. Clarke didn’t mind the anaconda spinning her, crushing her bones. She could have stayed there for the rest of her life for all she cared, because SHE was okay. Her lungs still inflated and her light bore through those silver greens, driving her mad.

Lexa pulled away even though every atom in her screamed out for her to hold, sitting her upright to look at her goddess, searching every crevice of the woman. Clarke did the same. She wasn’t a phantom, come back to haunt her. Lexa was flesh and blood. She was alive. That’s all that mattered. Azgeda was dead, Titus was dead, and Lexa was alive.

“Oh my god!” Lexa’s bottom lip quivered. She reached her trembling fingertips toward Clarke’s alluring face, touching every crevice in disbelief that this siren was animated in front of her. She had never seen anything so infinitely beautiful in her entire life: her angel, and the air, breathing the life back in the broken Heda. Clarke filled her lips around her long fingers, while Lexa winced through the oceans swimming in her silver-greens. Clarke noticed they were puffy with red and purple swarms around the sea. “W-why did you stay in there?! You could have been killed!” Lexa jostled her around, sitting up on the concrete, stroking Clarke’s matted, golden locks around her ear. “I… I thought you were…” She scooped Clarke by the under of her arms, pressing their chests together, fusing like hydrogen to oxygen. Clarke needed her skin on her skin in the most innocent way. She wanted to hold so tight they combined into one single entity, just to feel whole for the first damn time. “I thought I lost you! I-I thought... “

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” Clarke traced her tips across Lexa’s cheeks, searching her features for any glint that she was dreaming, with a shortness of breath. Clarke couldn’t believe it. Lexa didn’t care that others saw her as weak in that moment, bringing tears to her own sky-blues. She realized, then, why the poets wrote of the Universe as if it was love. Because, every time she caught her stare, she realized that Clarke was her North Star and she was home at long last. Clarke couldn’t stand the way she was looking at her, so full of uncontrollable petrification. She had never looked into the eyes of her warrior queen before and saw this. The guilt solidified in her bones, like cinderblocks to a body in a pond. “I’m sorry… I ‘ad to. I had to... I’m sorry. I’m so, so…” Lexa silenced Clarke with her soft lips, quaking as her seas flooded into Clarke’s ocean. She curled her lip around hers, dispensing electric pulses throughout her open mouth. The breaths between sweetened her taste. Lexa gingerly glided away. Clarke feverishly lunged for another collision, drawing in a sharp breath, dew sticking to her lashes. She hungrily twisted her fingers within Lexa’s mane. 

Every kiss she coaxed Lexa in spoke unsaid words. I’M ALIVE. She met Lexa’s ear, curling her bottom lip into her. I NEED YOU. She pressed against Lexa with an unrelenting force, completely petrified from the groundbreaking quake. I LOVE YOU. She gently pulled away, but Lexa held her closer, fusing her body into hers like a puzzle piece snapping into place. She winced, drawing backward, searching deep into Clarke’s skies. Lexa gawked in her beauty, trailing her fingers all around her jaw, scrunching her raised brow. She bit her bottom lip, traveling her pillows against Clarke’s face with an unnerving thoroness. Lexa suddenly stopped, scooping her jaw in her long fingers, swinging her restless gaze from one sky to the next.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Clarke peered in Lexa’s soul, swooping her hair back around her ear.

“Because…” She whispered. “I don’t want to look away.” She moved her fingertips across Clarke’s forehead, holding her other hand against the gash around her palm from cutting the ropes. Clarke carried her caress on top of Lexa’s cauterized hole in the break of her vest. “I’m afraid if I do… you’ll disappear.” Clarke bowed her head in Lexa’s hand, pressing her soft, split lip against her cool skin, not caring about the iron lipstick print left on them. The top of Lexa’s chest shuttered deep inside her ribcage from the light pressures. 

“Lexa…”

“I’m just so damn terrified that this is just a delusion and when I wake, you’ll be gone.”

“I’m right here.”

“I… I thought you were…” Clarke silenced her with another collision. Bellamy couldn’t contain himself. He darted toward the Hedas, scooping them up, conforming his body into Clarke’s back, burying his face deep in her neck, clutching Lexa’s upper arm and the other around the back of her skull, fusing into the women. He refused to let go, and they didn’t mind. Clarke noticed his silent sobs in her ear. Lexa pressed her forehead against her beloved.

“Are you even real?” She half moaned a mournful wail. 

“Are you?” Clarke lifted her chin, raising her Heda’s head high. Lexa granted her an uneasy smile, blinking back the flood that refused to stop. 

“I watched you die in that explosion…” The words left a lump in the back of her throat. She choked on them, clenching her teeth. Bellamy clutched hold tighter. Every word was another dagger in him and both of the girls knew it. Lexa peered down upon her hands, studying them, gingerly curling Clarke’s in hers, loosely weaving them together like the first stitch of a tapestry. 

“I’m right here.” She leaned back into Bellamy, bringing Lexa forward with her. Bellamy’s lip stayed at the bottom of her ear, lightly pressing his breath into her hair. Clarke curled her hand around his head, and holding onto Lexa for dear life. “I’m right here.” Lexa brushed one hand around Bellamy’s side, sandwiching Clarke together.

“I’m sorry…” She apologized to both of them. “I didn't mean to scare you like that, either. I just couldn't lose yo- Clarke, you're bleeding?!” Bellamy backed off of her as well. They both studied every contour of Clarke’s frame, pulling at her shirt, tracing their fingers over the gashes on her forehead, hands and torso. Lexa had just noticed, coming back to reality instead of this glowing figure in front of her. The taste of blood on her lip had her gagging, but she suppressed it. Her first priority was the love of her life. 

“It's not all mine…” Clarke assured them, turning herself to face both of them, darting her attention back and forth. “I… I stabbed a man and watched him die. I…. I had to… And then I shot...” 

“What did you do?!” Lexa knew Clarke needed to talk it out. She needed to process it. Bellamy bowed his head away from Lexa. Clarke had never willingly taken a life. She took up the pledge to protect and serve her people, to save everyone at all costs, regardless of moral obligations. Bellamy and Lexa studied her intensly. Lexa knew he knew by his lack of surprise, however he remained quiet on the matter. She let Clarke take her time with it.

“They were going to kill all my friends…” She nodded, pursing her lips. Lexa wanted to reach out to her, but she crossed her arms, closing herself off. Clarke buried her face in her hands, unable to look her beloved in the eye after everything. Lexa couldn’t take it. She was hurting. She had to do something, so she reached out to her, clasping one of her paws in hers. Clarke studied the universe and its vastness in Lexa’s silver greens, nodding once more. “They were going to kill you!”

“Clarke…” She drew her into her loving arms. Clarke dug her face in the crook of Lexa’s neck, relaxing her tense shoulders into her world. Warm wet met Lexa’s collar. Clarke curled her arm between Lexa’s chest, holding it on the other side of her face.

“I opened all the pressure valves and killed everyone inside.” Her mortified eyes widened. Bellamy shot Lexa a quick glance, still resting behind the Commander of Death. Both of their jaws clenched, speaking an unnerved, unsaid conversation between them. “I shot at the metal to make a spark and watched it burn.” She curled deeper into Lexa. 

“Clarke?”

“Queen Nia and around four hundred fifty Azgeda forces burned alive.” She held her breath, clawing deeper in the Heda. She was alive, however she was far from okay. Clarke couldn’t believe what she had done, but it needed to be. The fire within her was burning out slowly with the calming of her adrenaline. All she knew was that she needed a week off from work and Lexa in her bed, never leaving her side for any reason. She didn’t even crave the sex, moreso the most innocent parts of her breath on her neck, her arms curled around her, pressing her back into her. No more fighting, no more wars, just her perfect imperfection, her jaded, noble detective holding her in every way she ever craved to be held. She needed her more than she needed anyone in her entire life: even more than oxygen. Lexa noted her furious tremble. She had to get her to calm down somehow. It was easier said than done, but she had to at least try. 

“Are you okay, Hodnes? You look like shit.” She nervously giggled to defuse the tension. Clarke traced her lip with her forefinger while Lexa forced out a chuckle. It soothed her, granting a small moment of normality. Bellamy couldn’t help but crinkle a grin as well. Both of them sandwiching Wanheda, noted her deep, calming breath. She poked her head up toward Lexa’s melancholy-filled, half grin. Clarke grasped for the back of her jaw with the flat of her palm, pulling toward Lexa’s face. She brushed her lips against the Heda, while Lexa breathed the life into her. She couldn’t stop touching the woman in front of her. She was alive. They both still couldn’t believe it. 

“Don’t worry about me.” Clarke dried her eyes, pulling herself from Lexa’s embrace. Bellamy helped her sit up right. She was limp, unable to fully hold herself up. The adrenaline slowly crashed around her. “How’s your stomach? Your arm?”

“Hurts.” Lexa admitted. “I'll be fine.”

“I thought I lost you!” Clarke pressed her palms into the concrete, digging into the chips of glass. It dug away at her skin, yet didn’t break it. Lexa granted her another half-smile, pushing Clarke’s hair around her ear. Clarke pressed her face into Lexa’s pressures, brushing her hot mouth overtop of it. 

“You're not gonna lose me.” Lexa scooped up her face, holding her jaw in place to absorb deep in her soul. “Never. Never again.” Clarke circled one of hers around Lexa’s, squeezing her sky-blues, leaning into her. “But, our fight is not yet over.”

“What do you mean it’s not over?” Clarke perked upright.

“I’ll tell you about it later.” No. Clarke wanted answers now. But, it may not have been the best time, and she knew that. She still wanted them now, get the entire blow over with so she could relax, but Lexa gave her that cold, stern look that she wasn’t going to give anything up to what was going on. “Come on. Let’s go home.” Bellamy shifted to his feet, propping Clarke up as well. Lexa followed suit. Clarke hugged Bellamy, but instinctively clung to the Heda like a magnet to a paper clip. They stumbled through the early morn, completely exhausted. They had done it. Trikru and Azgeda both were dead, and the war between the gangs had been won, at last. 

 

Luna’s Base  
Eight Hours Later

 

They were cleaned up, showered, shaved, and stitched like Frankenstein’s Monster. She needed to get out of the cold, metallic room and get back to Lexa, but she was called in for questioning. Clarke’s butterfly bandage held her eyebrow in place from the slit spot. The white sterilizing pad on her wrist crinkled with each movement, wrinkling the surgical tape. She sat in a chair in front of a metal table, while Bellamy stood behind her, arms folded. Luna wanted to interview them, two by two, making sure everyone’s stories matched to how the situation went down. Clarke’s endeavors were spoken of all around the world on the news: all Azgeda leaders and Trikru leaders were taken out by the cooperation of a band of Vigilantes and the TonDCPD. Clarke rubbed the upper of her arms, inside blue scrubs gifted to her, while her actual clothes were in the lab, being analyzed as evidence. Bellamy also donned scrubs. Clarke blew out amused air with the sight of him, patched up and arms bulging out of the holes. He looked so uncomfortable, like it was too loose for his liking in some spots, and too tight in others. She wrung out her moist hair, still wet from her shower, leaving droplets on the metal table. 

“So, Roan escaped.” Luna stated, flipping pages on her holopad, pacing back and forth. She swiped left, then right, followed by pinching her index and thumb together, then separating them to expand the image. She cocked an eyebrow at Clarke to answer the question. 

“Yes.” She was very matter of fact. Clarke made damn sure no emotion slipped through. Some may chuck it as shock, others, something to hide. For Clarke, she was pretty damn sure it was both. She had killed so many people all for a small group of her people and the love of her life. She couldn’t fathom the thought of losing anyone else. 

“You’re sure.” Luna peaked at Clarke, judging her, watching every single movement she made. Clarke was assertive, stern, sitting up straight; yet, relaxed. She blew out hot air before replying.

“Yes.” Luna nodded, accepting her stance to be fact. “He fled before the blast.” Bellamy crossed his arms harder, pacing back and forward. They were at the same questions for the seventh time, and he had enough of it. Clarke rolled her eyes, exhausted. She did not know she was on trial here, but she understood. She killed people on a mass genocidal scale, and that would take hours of interrogation, however it was only thirty minutes. She just wanted to be out with Lexa again, craved her with her. Lexa refused to leave her side, even while in the shower. She just clung to her, and vice versa. Clarke snapped the visage from her memory, completely red. Luna cleared her throat. 

“How did you get free? The gun?”

“I cut the ropes tied around my hands and I stabbed a man. I took his gun.” She didn’t exactly lie. She just stretched the truth a bit. She owed Roan one, and leading them off his trail was her way of paying him back for letting them go, when he could have easily killed them. 

“Then you freed your friends?” Luna swiped down on her datapad, checking the answers from the testimonies others gave. She mean mugged Clarke, searching every depths of her soul for any glint of speaking inconsistencies. Clarke wrung her hands together, jolting slightly. Luna could have taken it for default. Clarke clutched the edges of her seat, gulping hard. 

“That’s correct.” Bellamy filled in the void, noting her dismay, coming to her rescue yet again. He crossed his legs and arms, leaning against the wall. He was her knight, her right hand always jumping in whenever she was lost for words. At this moment, she was. How could she ever tell them that Roan, now King of Azgeda, was still alive and out there? Lexa sure as hell knew, but she couldn’t risk anything as of yet. 

“I was asking Clarke.” Luna sat down, crossing her legs. She set the holopad in front of her on the table with a thud. Clarke jolted up, staring at the woman. She smiled to reassure her. Clarke knew she believed her reaction was still shock. Killing that many people would leave anyone damaged. 

“Yes.” Clarke grunted.

“And then, you found these pressure valves?” She fanned out her fingers in front of her, crossing her other arm under her chest while leaning back in her chair. Clarke curled her fingers into fists, digging graves in her palms. They were propped on her knees with straight arms, her head sinking below her shoulders. Bellamy sprung off the wall, setting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Clarke curled her fingers around it, lowering her lips to her grasp. She let herself upright, composing herself. Bellamy kept his embrace clasped tight around her. It comforted her. She wasn’t so damn alone. 

“I followed a couple guards going to check the intake on the same level after escaping through the ventilation system.” She grunted. “I killed them too before he could kill me.” She glossed over everything, standing vast like a soldier at attention.

“And you’re sure that is how everything went down?” Luna leaned in closer to her, propping her elbows on the table. Clarke smoothed her scrubs shirt, straightening her back.

“I’m positive.” Luna’s eyes crinkled to slits. She pinched the bridge of her nose with both of her thumbs on either side. Clarke’s jaw tensed, grinding her fangs. 

“Okay.” She relaxed. “Thank you, Wanheda. You’re free to go.” Clarke nodded toward the woman across from her before peering up at the messy black haired man towering over top of her. She stood up, shaken. She needed to get the hell out of there, but Bellamy held out his calloused hand, grasping hers. He pulled her deep into a hug, resting his face in the crane of her neck. She pursed her lips, clasping the back of his arms around her neck. No one could believe she was still alive after everything that happened. When they were waiting outside in the med bay, one by one, members of Floukru and her own people aboard visited her. Lexa refused to leave her side while every single one of them thanked her for her sacrifice and asked how she was still alive. Lexa held her hand tight and never let go. Now, it was Bellamy’s turn to cling to the woman whose innocence went up in flame with every single member of Azgeda and Trikru trapped inside the blast. Clarke pried herself out of Bellamy’s grasp while Luna asked him to stay. She exited the haul of the ship. Lexa waited for her outside, her boot pressed against the wall, arms crossed.

She wore a leather jacket with tight jeans and a band T. They were obviously hers. Luna must have raided her apartment bringing back clothes for her when they were brought to FlouKru. Clarke charged past her, refusing to utter a word. She kept the course, storming down the dark corridor in the aircraft carrier. Lexa cocked her head to the side, following her strides. She didn’t recognize this side of Clarke. It was as if she was more assertive, brazen, yet terrified all at the same time. She had overheard the entire conversation with Luna, disapproving that she didn’t speak the entire story. She caught her hand, spinning Clarke to face her.

“Why did you lie?” Lexa spat it out a little harsher than she intended. Clarke spun on her heel like a wild beast, slamming her hard against the wall, which shocked the Heda. She had never been so forceful with her before, even in bed, but she did not stop her. She let her do it, because at least it was anything but the numbness Clarke was feeling. Clarke pressed hard against her upper arms, digging her thumbs into her. Lexa was sure they would leave a bruise.

“Keep your voice down!” She narrowed her vision to the Heda, while Lexa lovingly swung her restless gaze across her features. She snapped out of her aggressive trance, releasing the Heda. Lexa’s red flags all raised all at once. Clarke was damaged. She had to do something, but at the moment, she needed to understand why she would cover for Roan instead of telling the truth. “I don’t trust her.” 

“Clarke, he killed Costia.”

“We will find him, love.” She clasped Lexa’s chin with her forefinger and thumb, coming in close to her, damn near tasting her. She wanted to tell her with every bone in her that she was sorry for snapping, but all words would ricochet. Lexa almost fell into her intoxicating aura. She was ready to go at it right then and there. Clarke’s broken dominance didn't exactly help her growing predicament. The Heda snapped to attention. Clarke released her. “And, we need him in case Titus was right.” She released the Heda.

“Clarke…” Disapproval reverberated around the small area. She crossed her arms. A few guards stepped past them, nodding to the newly earned Wanheda and Heda. Lexa nodded back. Once Clarke was sure they were out of earshot, she continued. 

“He saved us.” She battled her sky-blues back within Lexa’s silver greens. “Told me where the pressure valves were to kill all of the Azgeda leaders, including his mother.” Lexa cocked her head to the side, slumping her weight on her back foot. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing from her mouth. “He said his debt was paid. I owe him down the line.” Clarke neglected to mention that part before when explaining what exactly happened in the shower. 

“You owe a him a favor?!” Lexa never realized how much of a mixture of fear and disappointment she could contain for this perfect creature in front of her, even in her darkest hours. She shook her head, disapprovingly furious. “How stupid can yo- Clarke… I love you, but that’s a promise I can’t let you live up to.”

“I know. I wasn’t planning on it.” This relieved the Heda. “When the time comes, we’ll be ready.” She leaned into the woman, brushing her cool, moist lip across Lexa’s. She drank in the detective, pressing her entire force against Lexa, who fell deep within her lust filled guilt. Clarke just wanted to silence her in the only way she knew how. “Promise.” Lexa dropped it. Consternation for her well being overwhelmed her. Clarke wasn’t acting like Clarke. 

“How are you feeling after-?”

“You know what, I’ve gotta go. See you at home, love?” She cut her off. There was seriously something wrong. Clarke was one for words, Lexa was not; yet, the tides have turned. She needed to get to the bottom of it. Clearly, she was still in shock, but Lexa had to give her some sort of aftercare to know she was loved and that she was not a monster. She knew what it was like to take lives for the first time and how it destroys the humanity left within a person. She defaulted on her Doctor’s Oath, which she upheld to the fullest extent of anything. Lexa loved her more for her compassion, even when the asshole didn’t deserve to be saved. But, in that moment, Clarke gave up everything she ever held dear to her, slaughtering hundreds in a plume of fire and brimstone. She was terrified Clarke was lost, but she also needed time. Lexa wanted to make sure she was at a clear head. 

“Clarke…” She noted the floods held back in her eyes. “Hodnes!” Lexa wiped away the ducts with the pad of her thumb. Clarke wanted to fall to pieces and fold herself in her arms, but she couldn’t. She didn’t feel like she deserved to anymore. Not here. 

“I’ve gotta go, babe.” She turned away from her. Lexa caught her hand, spinning her on the wall, pressing her hard against it. Clarke was stunned. Lexa brushed her hair out of her face, holding it in her hands. Clarke contained a silent sob off of her lip. She almost let it go, but sucked it in. Lexa shook her head. 

“Someone tried to kill you today and you wiped out, reportedly, 906 people in that building.” She said it so matter of fact, completely devoid of emotion. Clarke clenched her jaw, unable to look her in the eye. She wanted to die with them, rather than face their haunting. It was what she felt like she deserved, but Lexa would claim it was done in the act of war to end it, and the ends justified the means. Lexa grabbed it, shaking her slightly until she finally met her starry eyes. “It’s okay to fall apart sometimes. You don’t have to be Wanheda with me. No one is judging you.”

“I am…” Lexa took a step backward. She hadn’t expected that response. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta go.” Clarke knocked her embrace away, but Lexa pressed her entire body against her, holding her wrist to the metal wall behind her. Clarke’s breathing sunk deep in her chest. “I adore you, Heda.” She filled her opposite hand with Lexa’s hair, brushing her lips against hers once more to stifle her words. She didn’t think she deserved Lexa’s kindness. She didn’t deserve anyone’s kindness. She released her. Lexa fell limp, weak with her deep embrace. “I promise, I’ll be home soon.” She rushed her bottom lip against Lexa’s once more, then booped her on the nose with them. “Promise.”

“You did what you had to. We all did.” Lexa was onto her. She knew this tactic. Whenever Lexa was upset or angry with Clarke, she would fill the silence with sweet, tender kisses to spare, silencing her until she woke up naked in her bed, not remembering why she was angry at Clarke in the first place. “You’re not broken…” Clarke pressed her lip under her jawline by her ear. This set off every trigger in her, her hair standing at attention like soldiers on a drill line. It was a dirty, low-blow tactic. Her breathing shortened, swelling in her loins, filling the voids with this thudding in her pelvis. It was like the feeling in the pit of her stomach while going downhill on a roller coaster, but only in her pants. She was about to jump her right there, everyone in the hall be damned. She closed her eyes.

“Gotta work. Save some for me, okay?” Clarke withdrew from her embrace. Lexa leaned forward, eyes still closed, waiting, longing for her to return, but Clarke did not. Her heart thudded faster in her chest, while a small rage built in her, knowing that her thirst shan’t be quenched. 

“We will talk about this later.” She pointed at Wanheda with her fist. 

“What if I don’t want to talk?” Clarke shrugged both shoulders. 

“We WILL talk.” Clarke granted her a half cocky grin. Lexa was damn near close to charging after her and finishing what she started. “You can’t kiss your way out of this one, Griffin.” Clarke shrugged both shoulders, stepping backward. She knew Lexa was angry, and knew exactly what she had done, pressing every bit of her triggers. It took every milimeter of restraint in Lexa not to charge after her. Clarke turned the corner, just out of her view. Lexa gulped, staring at the ceiling, blinking wildly, trying to calm herself down.

Luna slowly crept behind her sister, watching Wanheda trudge on into nothingness. Lexa couldn’t believe how brash Clarke was. She needed to do something: anything. She was hurting more than she had ever seen her hurt in her entire life; even worse than when she left. She was broken, and Lexa had this primal need to fix it for her. She needed to fix everything. Clarke was worth the pain. Luna snapped her back in her head, clearing her throat.

“You’ve got your hands full with that one.” She pointed her thumb towards the way Wanheda disappeared. “She really is Wanheda. I thought it was just for show, just a pet name you gave her, but nine hundred six without batting an eye?”

“She really is…” Lexa bit the sides of her cheeks, fighting back the water. She softened, her lashes swept up and she blinked. “I just wish I wasn’t right. I didn’t mean to turn her into this.” She stared down the hall, fighting back the seas swirling in her silver greens. Lexa thought this was all her fault. If she hadn't agreed to let Clarke come along, she wouldn't have been taken. She wouldn't have had to kill and lose herself in the process. The visage of Clarke’s eyes bore holes in her, and every word she said hung to her. She bit down harder on her cheeks, blowing out hot air from her nose. She had done this. This was her fault and Clarke would still be the same annoying, clingy, adorable doctor she loved with the petname of Wanheda, not the true essence of the title. Maybe, just maybe she should have been lost to her beloved. Maybe she should have let Nilyah take her because then she wouldn't be THIS. But, Clarke would give her a smile and never turn her back on her. She'd die if it meant she saved everyone she's ever cared about, and that scared Lexa to death. She was falling, throwing her heart away and Lexa couldn't save her from herself: especially if she didn’t want to be saved. She knew that look… Clarke would never be whole again. It took every molecule in her body to not charge after her and just hold her beautiful disaster. 

“You love her.” Luna was so nonchalant. It wasn't a question. No one doubted it, especially when Lexa had thought she lost Clarke for good. Lexa finally lifted her glance from the echoes of her ghost.

“With every fiber of my soul.” She gulped. Luna nodded with a strong melancholy. There was no doubt her husband was on her mind. Bellamy at least brought him home to her. For that, she knows that Luna was eternally grateful to him. Lexa studied her older sister, her hands clenched tight, jaw pressed hard together. “How are you doing, sis?”

“Derrek died a hero to his people.” She kept nodding, unable to stop. If she did, she would have shown her weakness once again, and she was not permitting herself to do so in front of her kru. Her people needed her to be strong. Lexa understood better than anyone. “He will be remembered as such.” Luna gulped. Lexa pursed her lips together, but Luna did something that completely took her off guard. She let a tear fall, setting a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder. Lexa snapped her attention quick as she could back to her. “Cherish her, strisis-little sister-.” Lexa hung on every word, nodding with wistful stolen glances. “One day, she’s gonna be gone and you’ll only have yourself to blame.” 

“I already lost her once.” She admitted. 

“Even more reason to hold onto her.” Lexa gulped. She was not expecting this, and knowing from experience, especially losing Derreck... “You’re not Heda or Detective with her. You are just you. I can see that.” Lexa almost lost control of herself. The wounds were still fresh. Luna was right. She didn’t owe anyone a damn thing except for her time and her love when it came to Clarke. “Never let her go. Don’t you dare, for one second take her for granted.” Luna let another tear fall. Lexa curled herself around her sister, setting her hand on the back of her head. Her brows met in the middle, noting the warm, salty tears plop on her leather, bouncing back up to splash her cheek. “When she’s gone, it won’t be like Costia. That one…” She pried herself from Lexa’s embrace. “She’s your soulmate, Heda. That loss will kill you. So hold on, and don’t ever regret it.” Lexa nodded to her. She brought her head down to her lips, kissing her forehead. Clarke really had softened her.

“I won’t. She’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.” The siblings nodded to one another, collecting themselves while crewmembers passed them by, stopping to salute the Floukru leader and the Heda. Both women nodded at them, releasing them from their respects. 

“I know.” Luna pursed her lips, as if she were fighting back another wave that threatened to ride out. She exhaled quickly. “Hey, I wanted to offer you a job here at FlouKru. We could work side by side.” Lexa cocked her head. “We made a good team, huh?”

“I can’t give up on my partner, Luna.” It came off a little more harsh than she was going for. Lexa had a duty to uphold, and she wasn’t in the killing business. She would only when necessary, and Anya kept her honest and in check. She knew that Luna would be a good fit and it would be easier to get to know her again, but she needed Anya. She made sure that Lexa remained someone that is worthy to come home to Clarke.

“I understand.” Luna gulped. “But, if you change your mind, the offer is still on the table.” She was clearly crushed by the denial, peering toward the floor, then back up at her little sister.

“It’s not because of you…” Lexa took notice, quickly rebuking the unsaid assumption. “I’d like to get to know you again.” She really did. All this time, she thought Luna was dead. Throwing back a few brews and catching up with her sister didn’t seem like a bad idea, and she was sure Clarke would approve of it. 

“I’d like that too…” She reached her extension toward Lexa, who caught it, clasping their forearms together. Sister nodded to sister, speaking unsaid words of ‘I’m glad you’re alive’. Luna released her, projecting herself past her, resting her hand on her shoulder once more to lean into her ear. “Cherish her.” She released Lexa. “See you around, Heda.” Luna raised her hand, walking back toward the interrogation chamber. Lexa nodded before turning to walk away, herself.

 

Clarke  
A Few Hours Later

She stumbled around the parking lot of the chopper pad by the beach, shoving her hands in the front of her pockets of the maroon hoodie Floukru gave her. Her hair whipped in the wind while the chopper whizzed overhead, leaving her alone to her own devices. Clarke slowly closed her eyes, clutching her fists in little balls, exhaling hard. She needed a shot or two or twenty and a long hard screw with Lexa naked, on top of her. She needed to feel her, all of her, inside, out, her deepest parts, everything. She needed to fuse into her, sticky skin on skin while their sin draped them in the showers of wet passions, sharing their ultimate bond of closeness. She lived for her sweet soft moans and sighs ringing close in her ear, and she craved them more than anything at the moment. She had damn near just lost her a few hours prior, and she didn’t want to leave her side for anything, but duty called. Nothing was going to be the same again. She was a stone cold killer, and the worst part, she had never felt so alive. In that instant, she knew exactly why Lexa loved her job. No matter how stressful and hopeless it may have seemed to be, that adrenaline was addictive, and she was crashing from the high. 

“Nine hundred-six…” She slurred, unable to fathom the gravity of what she had done. She hated that she loved it so much. Nine hundred six souls snuffed by her doing. Nine hundred six children, parents, brothers, sisters, and lovers never to see their family again. Nine hundred six souls just trying to do what’s right for their people in harsh economical times. The guilt solidified in her, deeper than anything she had ever experienced: both, the guilt from liking it, and the shame from defaulting on her oath. She strolled up to the railing of the docs, overlooking the salty tide, pulling in and out. She couldn’t pass this guilt off to Lexa, although she understood what it meant to be tainted with war, stained with the blood of hundreds at a time. The worst part, in Clarke’s mind, she was a doctor, a savior of humanity. Death followed her, no matter where she went, and the trail of bodies exponentially grew. 

“I am become death…” Oppenheimer never spoke truer words. She finally understood why Lexa left. She couldn’t fathom how the hell she could be happy, how she could smile again. That man’s light leaving his soul replayed countless times in her head to the point she was so numb, she could hardly breathe. Maybe, just maybe, she should have left instead. She watched the water crash up and down the docks, leaning over the rails with her hands crossed. Seagulls flew overhead, squawking in time with the waves crashing, lulling her to a deeper numbness. She sucked in the salty air through her nostrils, letting it swirl throughout her lungs. It was all worth it because Lexa was alive and the war was over. The leaders were taken out and no one opposed them now. They could finally have peace. But, she couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing was going to be peaceful again, especially with the new waged war in her head. 

A black Honda Civic honked its horn at the woman standing by the water. She jerked her head over her shoulder, staring at the vehicle. She anticipated it to come for her, but she thought the person inside would actually get out, instead of wanting her to get in. Clarke rolled her eyes, pushing off the dock, sauntering toward the vehicle, slowly opening the back of the door to climb in. She adjusted her hoodie after zipping it. The man set it in park, turning off the engine. 

“What do you want?” She croaked, completely exasperated. The man sat face forward, cocking his head to the side, glaring at her in the rearview mirror. He drummed his thumbs on the wheel. She got the call on the chopper that he would be waiting for her, easily convincing her to join up in this new crusade. Saving Lexa and the world was an easy enough answer to agree to, even with some reservations, but there was no going back now.

“You really lived up to that Wanheda title. Here I thought it was only for show so no one would mess with you.” He creeked a crooked, cocky grin. Clarke rolled her eyes, pulling herself up between the cracks of the driver’s seat and the passenger’s. She crawled over the top, ducking her head, and then curled up in the empty seat. 

“You’ll find I’m full of surprises.” Clarke hugged her knees tight. The man crossed his hand over his outstretched forearm, his other still on the wheel. He bowed his head, cocking an excited brow toward Wanheda. 

“Clearly.” He extended his thumb, pointing in the direction of the chopper. “Does she know?” He referred to Lexa. Clarke ran her hands through her long locks, bunching them up into a bun on the back of her head. 

“She doesn’t have to.” She shrugged. Clarke dropped a leg to the floorboard, while keeping one propped up. The man drummed his thumb on the steering wheel in time with the radio, softly trilling in the background. 

“Are you ready for your first assignment, Wanheda?” He stared blank ahead, expressionless. Clarke nodded, mostly assuring herself for what she was about to embark on.

“As I’ll ever be.” She opened up the glove compartment, drawing out a pistol. She checked the rack, sliding it back, before flipping out the clip. She slammed it back in with the blunt of her palm, sliding it in the back of her pants. “Let’s get this over with, Roan.” 

“You realize we will have to take out Luna if she really knows the real purpose of FlouKru.” Roan kom Azgeda croaked softly in her ear. He assured her that Lexa would be safe, even if Luna did know and revealed Titus’s revelation as true. From their flight back to Luna’s base, Clarke knew she denied everything, setting him up as a crazy old crackpipe. She just detested going behind Lexa’s back, unable to tell her about her new exploits. But, if it was to save her and the world, it would have to do. 

“I know.” Ninehundred-six drummed harder in her head, pulsing in her veins. The body count would surely rise. Ninehundred-six drilled deep in her bones, injecting her with it’s venom as the only bit of her soul that remained, laid with Lexa. Ninehundred-six.

“Alright.” Roan patted the back of her shoulder. “Kane will brief you on your first assignment, partner. Your training starts now.” He started up the car, pulling it out of park. “Welcome to the Coalition.”

 

Clarke and Lexa  
Two Days Later

She propped her head on Lexa’s chest, curled deep inside her. She rubbed her face between her breasts, crumbling herself around the Heda deeply, coming in waves with every slow, deep breath she sucked into her lungs. Lexa cradled her, reading her romance novel about a doctor falling in love with a detective. She chuckled, licking her finger to turn the page. Clarke closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the lull of Lexa’s life, relaxing the dreaded number drumming harder against her ears. Lexa was the first bit of quiet she had ever experienced since the fall. She needed her. She silenced the war in her mind with just a breath, falling into her sleepy snuggles. Clarke’s breathing shallowed, slipping into unconsciousness against the Heda. Lexa leaned down, pressing her lips against the top of Clarke’s head before turning the next page. There were only two paragraphs. She quickly scanned over them, pulling off her reading glasses, then closed the book shut. Clarke sucked in air from her parted mouth, drooling while in the calm. Lexa folded around her. 

“Hodnes, I need to talk about something.” Lexa leaned her chin down to her chest, staring at the top of Clarke’s hair. She slowly opened her eyes, yawning. Clarke pressed the palm of her hand against Lexa’s keeping her head to her heart. She couldn’t get enough of that heartbeat, thudding in her ear. She was here, flesh and blood against her. Lexa pressed her lips to the top of Clarke’s head, who shot up at her, leaning her chin forward. Their lips collided with small grins and sweet breath between the pecks. Clarke pressed her head back against Lexa’s chest in a thud, spreading her fingers with Lexa’s long ones. Lexa let loose a small chuckle. 

“What’s wrong?” She gazed back up into those silver-greens she adored, promptly setting her index on Lexa’s bottom lip. Lexa was faded: distant. Clarke propped herself up on her elbows, keeping her fingers against Lexa’s cool lip. Her tanktop draped around her exposed shoulder with the pull. Clarke was just in a long, white t-shirt. She adored Lexa’s exposed tattoos. They always drove her wild, while she traced her tips around each swirl. 

What she wasn’t expecting was a fresh tattoo of that butterfly she drew so long ago, when Lexa was just a badge in blue. She thought the band around her arm for the last two days was covering a wound, not fresh ink. It was red and puffy, the design still bubbling to the surface, however it glistened with a thin layer of A&D ointment on top. She was not expecting to see it again, reflecting of the time gone by. Lexa must have taken a picture of it back then, but it was a shock. That tattoo was a permanent mark, claiming she belonged to Clarke and Clarke alone. She rubbed her index against it. Lexa gasped with the small sting. The scab only started to form overtop. Clarke held back the dam thinking all this time, she’ll forever hold her heart on her sleeve. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Lexa coiled her embrace tighter with a crinkle on her amused mouth. “Don’t worry about that.” Clarke pressed her chest against Lexa’s stomach, who sat up completely. She swarmed her arms around the Heda, like a sailor holding onto the mast during the middle of a hurricane, clutching for dear life. Lexa propped her knees around the woman, leaning over to press her mouth against her hair. Clarke buried her sleepy face in Lexa’s frame. Her heart pounded faster. She was safe and sound, in her arms. Her stitches were healing nicely from the gashes. “Look, I know you’re going to be haunted by what you did to the end of your days, and I wanted to see how you’re doing?” Clarke let go of her, pressing herself up on their bed of Lexa’s apartment. She cocked her cumbersome head toward the woman with the gorgeous, flowing locks of dark bronze. “When I first took command and the Spire was attacked, I killed so many. I did what I did to protect my people.” Her brow raised with the sudden gulp, recounting the first of her bodies. “It still haunts me, but the pain will fade.”

“I know.” Clarke leaned in closer to the Heda. She clenched her fists full of the sheets between Lexa’s legs. Lexa harshly swallowed the swelling lump in the back of her throat, her mouth parting, breathing out cool air. Clarke inched closer, resting one hand on the inside of her thigh. She granted her a melancholy-filled, half grin. It faded as fast as it appeared. Lexa clutched her jaw with her forefinger and thumb, lightly pressing in her cheekbones, to where Clarke couldn’t look away, no matter how hard she may try. 

“And, until then, I’m going to be here for you through it all, no matter what.” She released her, running her ridiculously long fingers down her exposed neck, resting it on her heart. She could feel it pulse hard against her light grasp. Clarke leaned forward, desperately wanting Lexa to take her. It was a better alternative to talking. She leaned in closer, holding her hand on the inner of her thigh, while provoctavely sliding in to brush her love against the bottom of Lexa’s neck. She shuddered, pushing Clarke back down to a sit. She pouted, then came close enough to her lip. 

“I know… I believe you.” Clarke brushed her nose on the tip of Lexa’s. She pulled away from the Heda. Lexa couldn’t stop drinking her in. She couldn’t take the beauty in the purest form staring at her. It was as if the air was sucked from her lungs and all the stars collided into dust, raining down from the heavens on top of her. Lexa couldn’t speak. Her chest swelled with an overwhelming duty to protect the woman in front of her, and a pride beyond measure. She wanted to scream to the world of the magnificence before her. She didn’t love her for her beauty or status: rather, for the way the sound of her voice silenced the war in her mind. She was in Lexa’s veins, coursing deeper than any nightblood could ever run. 

Clarke was perfection even with her imperfections: her hotheadedness, her brash, crass tongue. In an instant, Lexa could look at her and know, for the first damn time in her life, she was really home. She belonged to someone, and that frightened her most of all. Every cell in her genetic code screamed at her to run from this because her brilliance blinded her. But, Clarke was this wildfire, unable to be tamed and she loved her all the more for it. Clarke was bruised and battered for a better man, always trying to save Lexa from herself. She didn’t know how the hell she was so lucky to have someone like her. She couldn’t contain the words anymore. She had to say them before the burst out of her, exploding her contents like laying on a live grenade. 

“I love you.” Lexa exploded. She couldn’t choke out the words fast enough. Clarke swelled, pushing her on the bed, leaning her back. She flung one leg overtop of her like mounting Lexa’s Harley. She couldn’t get enough of Lexa saying those three words, which she, only recently, was able to say. They were a trigger in her. She pushed her deeper into the mattress. The tips of her hair brushed in the Heda’s face. She sucked in her marshmallow lip into her mouth, drawing the life from her. She slowly slid in the tip of her tongue. Lexa grasped her by the back of the hair, flinging her around to her back. Clarke giggled with the momentary dominance that Lexa rarely ever displayed. She pulled her breath from her tongue. 

“I love you too.” Clarke’s satisfactory, shit eating grin was so normal: like this past week didn’t even happen. It may have well all been a dream. In that instant, it was a lifetime ago. Clarke wasn’t a war hardened killer, and Lexa was just Lexa: not Heda or Detective Woods. All that mattered was the person in front of them. Their surroundings muddied together, but the woman before them was the only damn thing in the world that was crystal clear. Lexa backed off of her, dancing back and forth, fumbling within the bedside drawer next to her while laying down, sliding something underneath the pillows. Clarke was sure it was her phone, making sure no caller would buzz in the drawer, taking away from their moment of pure existence. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“No.” Lexa croaked. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, wringing her hands together. Clarke wasn’t quite sure what was going on with her; if she was having another episode or if there was something else on her mind. She figured it was the latter. Clarke could hardly look herself in the mirror anymore after what she had done. She wondered how the hell Lexa still could love her, but she also prepared for the worst. Lexa was as nervous as that December day at the Mt. Weather Cinema when she left. She bounced her knee. 

“Clarke… Hodnes… I…” Lexa fumbled with her words. She searched the bed for any reinforcement, coming up with empty hands. Clarke was sure she wanted to take a break until she got her shit together. She was adamant before about her talking things through instead of being like her and keeping it locked away. Lexa wanted to get her some help, with this, but Clarke kept refusing. She prepared herself for the ultimatum: Get your shit together and talk it out, or I’m gone. But, that also wasn’t Lexa’s style. Clarke had never been so unsure of Lexa’s next move in her life, and it scared her to death. “This is probably going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Lexa sighed.

“Lexa?”

“I want to insure to you I’m not leaving you.” Lexa coiled her reach around Clarke’s. She gasped at the pressure. She was so damn sure Lexa was leaving that she wasn’t expecting anything but the rejection, but Lexa set her mind to ease. First the tattoo, and then the reassurance that Clarke’s battle hardened self was still enough. “That I’ll never leave you again.” Lexa inched herself closer to the worn out, newly crowned true Commander of Death. “That, I will cherish and honor you until the end of my days. And, never for a second will I ever take you for granted. That…” She scooped up her face with two fingers under her chin, earth colliding with the sky. “You are my beautiful disaster and I’d walk through the gates of fire if it will let me lay next to you.” Clarke’s brows touched in a sudden anxious inquiry. 

“Lexa, what are you?”

“Marry me, Hodnes.” Clarke couldn’t have possibly heard her right. Lexa fumbled under the pillow, pulling out a velvet black box. It wasn’t her phone. Clarke’s sky-blues bulged out of her skull.

“Holy shit…” She couldn’t breathe. Lexa creaked open the hinge of the box, revealing a gold band with a princess cut diamond. It was a single one, simple, just like how Clarke liked her jewelry. She set down the box in Clarke’s palm. 

“This time, it’s for keeps. This time…” She swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. “I won’t run. I won’t falter. If you were by my side, I could do anything.” Clarke ceased breathing. Lexa bowed under her, connecting with her skies, with an intense, stern, but soft green glow. “Be anything.” Clarke sucked in a deep gasp. “You make me want to be better, not only for my people, not only for you, but for myself.” Lexa turned away for a moment, puffing up her cheeks to blow out hot air, holding back the dam threatening to spill over. She returned her glance toward Wanheda. “You asked me last time. This time, I’m begging you. I just can’t live my life without you.”

“L-Lex…” Clarke’s hand flooded to her mouth. 

“I’m not good with this kind of thing, so help me out here, Wanheda.”

“Why?” It wasn’t the answer Lexa was looking for. “Why would you want to marry me anyway?” She couldn’t stop the floods from coming. “I’m damaged. I’m a murderer.” Lexa really wasn’t expecting this. If it was this easy to make her open up about what she had to do, she would have done it long ago. Clarke backed away from her. “I took sons and daughters away from their parents. Mothers and fathers away from their kids.” She hyperventilated. “I’m no good. You deserve more than that. I wish I could tell you more, but…”

“You’re not a monster, Wanheda.” Lexa swam her reach toward the broken woman. “You’re a hero to your people. You stopped a war!” She ducked under Clarke’s gaze, descending below her. “YOU!” Clarke coiled her fingers around Lexa’s, resting on her cheek. “You did what I could not. What the government, and all of its vast resources could not.”

“But you stopped Titus.”

“And you killed Azgeda and all of their high ranking officers.” She quipped back the rebuttal. Clarke sat there stunned. “There is no one left to take up the mantle, except for Roan, and we both know he never wanted anything to do with his mother’s work…”

“You’ve gone soft on him?” She questioned.

“I’ve grown wise.” A stillness filled the void of the room for a brief moment. “I still don’t trust him and I still want him dead for Costia, but she was avenged by you…” Clarke shook her head at Lexa’s proading. “YOU, Clarke. I couldn’t do that…” Lexa nodded. “YOU got me close to Jaha and Alie. YOU saved me, even from myself more times than I could count. YOU stopped the war.” She turned away from the love of her life, trying not to offend her. She was so damn worried that Clarke would completely fall to pieces. “You really lived up to the Wanheda title, and I wish I was wrong, but you’re so damn strong and stood by me when all I’ve ever done was cause you pain. I refuse to cause you any more…” She scooped up her hands, stroking them, meshing her fingers throughout Clarke’s. “I’m not good with this kind of thing Clarke. So beja... Marry me.”

“But, why?! I’m nothing.” Clarke sobbed off of her lip. She couldn’t hold it in anyl onger. Those ninehundred six drummed in her ears, but was suddenly silenced with the long fingers of life against her swollen cheek. 

“Don’t you dare say that! Don’t you ever say that to me, Clarke Griffin!” She hunched over, descending below her angel of death. “Don’t you know by now? It’s only you. It’s always ever been only you.” She sucked in a deep breath to Clarke’s bewildered glance. She studied every contour of her features. The way her button nose curled at the tip, the cleft in her chin, her round cheeks she adored kissing, her thin upper lip that cradled around her plump ones as if they were designed for that purpose to drown together in the cold November skies. Clarke collected herself while Lexa reached her grasp between her breasts, allowing Clarke to take in every thump, speeding up with her nimble fingers. Clarke rested her other on Lexa’s inner thigh, clasping it. 

“I do want to apologize, Clarke. I’m sorry.” Lexa breathed hard. This caught the commander of death off guard. She had nothing to apologize for. “I’m sorry I never told you that I loved you, even when I knew I did.” Lexa bowed her head, unable to take her in while pouring her bleeding heart to this woman in front of her. “I’m sorry for leaving.” Clarke darted her gaze back and forth in Lexa’s sudden stare, confused to what was going on. Her brows met in the middle. “I never said it before because I was afraid it was going to hurt.” She clenched her jaw. 

“I would have coped…”

“I was afraid it was going to hurt me…” Clarke snapped back, shaking her head. She couldn’t have heard her correctly. She never once talked about her feelings, unless... Lexa continued. “The day I walked away from you, I replay countless times, over and over in my head. And, leaving you, leaving us, that is my greatest regret.” She clasped her hands overtop of Clarke’s quaking reach. “I was so sure that I would die alone and that, maybe it would have been better that way, because at least you could be happy.”

“Lexa…” She sympathetically sighed. Clarke never knew Lexa felt so strongly. She had a hunch with every look, every sigh, every kiss, but she was never expecting this vulnerable woman pouring her soul out. Octavia often wondered what the hell she did to the Commander, but she never believed she did anything until now. Lexa shook her head, swinging her restless gaze away from Clarke. 

“I was so sure I’d be your ruin, so I left to save you from myself. That decision will haunt me to the end of my days, because… I never stopped loving you.” Lexa couldn’t believe she was saying it at long last. She needed to get it out of her before it killed her. Clarke observed her, gawking with parted lip. She set a hand on Lexa’s knee. “I fell for you the day we met, but I never said anything before because -- I didn’t want to clip your wings when you were born to fly. I was the ground, you the sky, and you’re so high above me.” Clarke’s surprise shocked the Heda. She couldn’t believe she said it at long last. Clarke melted with her words, falling deep within the Heda’s breath. She needed to touch her. Lexa rubbed the back of her palm with her thumb. “Your duty to your people always comes first, so I bide my time and bite my tongue. It was always to save you from me.”

“I don’t need saving from you. I never did.” Lexa paused, unable to fathom how wrong she had been all this time and trying to come to grips that she let everything out all at once, like releasing the pressures from behind a dam, flooding villages downstream. Lexa held Clarke’s face in her hands.

“I know that now. You’ve completely consumed me, Clarke. And, everytime I look at you, I’m home. There’s no other place I’d rather be, because for the first damn time, I’m home.” She couldn’t hold back any further. Clarke lunged in, pressing her moist lip against the Heda’s, breathing her life in her. Every word translated into small I love you’s. She pulled away, their lips stuck together with the slow draw. Lexa brushed her hair from around her face. “And, love is weakness, but you’re worth the fall… Worth the wait.” Clarke wiped away Lexa’s streams with the pad of her thumb, even with the cataclysm of her own. “Even when the day should come and I close my eyes forever, my spirit will live on.”

Clarke didn’t want to think about this. She wanted Lexa alive forever, and the thought brought her to more tears that kept coming. “I will never stop searching for you. I will find you, and you'll never be alone again.” This was a promise, a binding of their souls throughout the cosmos in every life they may ever have. Lexa held her closer. “I can’t promise that I won’t subject myself to danger. That is my job. It is my duty to protect our people, and you have to accept that.” Clarke sucked in her bottom lip, shaking her head. She did not want to hear this at all, but Lexa needed to say it. She needed Clarke to know that, no matter what, she was here to stay. When it comes to her, eternity is never long enough. Most of all, she needed Clarke to understand. “But, just know, even if I fall in battle, or old and grey in your arms, I’ll always be with you.” Clarke audibly gulped, choking.

“Thank you.” She could barely find the words. “For telling me.” Clarke whispered, barely able to choke out any sound. “I know it’s hard for you to say this, but I’m glad you did.” She didn’t say yes. Lexa ceased breathing, petrified that she may not want her. She never realized how soon after their reconciliation she proposed, but she needed to. She just didn’t know if Clarke truly felt the same way after she betrayed her and left the first time. “What we have, it’s all consuming. It’s complicated and it’s messy as hell.” Lexa braced herself for the “no”, but she vowed to herself she would never stop trying.

She averted her restless gaze from the love of her life. “But, I want you to realize, Commander…” Clarke couldn’t stop the silent streams trickling down her long face. She clasped the Heda on both sides of her ears, stroking the outer of them with her thumbs. “Lexa, no matter where you go or what you do, I’ll follow where you lead. There’s no place you go that I won’t follow, even into the dark. Even if I can’t, I’ll find a way. You’re not alone.” Lexa slammed her eyes down and hummed the pain. “Oso throu daun ogeda.” If this is the worst part that is the best that Clarke has, Lexa would take it. She gulped deep within her dry throat. Clarke wadded her long mane within a flat palm, scrunching her hair tight, sending waves of electric pleasures to the Heda, while Clarke was merely trying to make a point. “Because, no matter what, no matter how hard we fought, I know you’d bleed for me, and I’d bleed for you.”

“So melodramatic…” Lexa cut the tension with a half hearted chuckle. Clarke rolled her skies around her head, brushing her nose against Lexa’s. Lexa wanted to bond to her like ions to an atom, but she still didn’t say yes. She just wanted to hear the damn words to ease her mind, but knew that Clarke would torture her a little before giving a straight answer, per her usual. She had to have her two cents for every damn thing, but Lexa loved her more for it. 

“Says the commander of stoic suffering.” Lexa backed her head away. Clarke grabbed her by the scruff of the tank top, yanking her back toward her. “Sha!-yes!-” She pressed so hard to Lexa she toppled her over. Lexa couldn’t stop the streams from coming. She couldn’t have possibly heard that right, she thought. Clarke draped around her like a close fit leather suit. She needed the touch of her sin on her skin. Every breath shot Lexa into pure ecstasy. This woman, this goddess, was to truly, truly be her wife. Clarke pulled her upright, setting the black, velvet box in Lexa’s paws. 

“Yes?” Lexa choked out, needing her to say it once again. She wanted to hear that one word for the rest of her life, over and over on constant playlist repeat. 

“For fuck sake, Lexa! Yes!” Clarke fanned at her eyes, fighting the streams coming fast. “A million times yes!” She grabbed her by the side of her face, pulling her into a deep kiss, while Lexa drank her in with sudden surprise. She fumbled with the box, drawing out the diamond. Clarke set her fingers in Lexa’s, while she slowly slid that solidifying rock on that third one. “It’s forever and always going to be you.” She replaced her hand upon Lexa’s cool cheek. She noted the cold, hard gold pressed against with her soft caress. Her mouth gaped open. It was really happening. At long last, it was really happening. “Only you.”

Lexa lunged in deep, hard. She hungrily slid her tongue between her teeth, leaning her backward into the silk sheets. Clarke gradually complied, crossing her forearms around Lexa’s neck in the process, coiling them around the back of her head, filling her hands with Lexa’s long locks, drinking her love. Lexa pushed her further up by the headboard, drawing her thigh above her hip, slipping a hand underneath her shirt. Clarke let out gorgeous little gasps with the pressures, ruthlessly battling Lexa’s tongue with hers like the duel of the fates. Her ringed hand met Lexa’s face. Lexa noticed that cool, hard metal in a small line on her cheek. She fiercely slid her hand inside Clarke’s boyshorts, filling her to the brim with her pressures. 

“Baby!” Clarke croaked with feral surprise, biting her lower lip, threatening to tear it off. She fell into her fingers, coaxing her open slit, pushing deep to the third knuckle, while keeping her thumb up, rubbing in a circular motion. Clarke grasped hold of her, tearing away the cloth on this succubus. Her blinding madness suffocated her, consuming her, taking her hard out of her head. The Heda was gentle, yet firm enough to release wave after wave of ecstasy, causing the good doctor to reach her constant peak, holding it there with unrelenting care. Clarke’s thighs quaked, spreading them wider around the woman, grinding hard against her massage. She retracted her care, leaving Clarke in a perpetual desire, needing her to return and be sworn. Lexa ascended, twisting her tanktop over of her head. Clarke yanked her hand, shoving it deep within her boyshorts. Lexa resumed the pressures against Clarke’s exposure. Clarke arched into her, rolling like waves crashing upon the beach, the small of her back clear off the silk sheets.

“I fucking love you, Clarke.” Lexa growled like an animal going in for the kill. Clarke’s lacy boyshorts filled with the flood of Lexa’s excited grasp, nibbling on the crane of her neck. She flicked upward, pulsating Wanheda’s heart in hard thumps. Clarke clasped the headboard, yanking it toward her head, her legs sending her lower half completely in the air. It creaked with a loud snap. Lexa shot up, gazing from it, to Clarke and back. “Clarke…” She chuckled while Wanheda broke her bed further. A sudden “Oh Shit” sopped off her lip.

“Just shut up and take me!” Clarke grasped the back of her neck, growling in a low husk, pulling her back into her sin. She drank her in deep, breathing the beats within her heart. She set a fire inside of her soul, choking as the smoke filled her lungs. The sweet breaths and sighs pulled them into an oblivion unlike any they’ve experienced before. It was not like other times. It was stronger, deeper, a loss of words. It was as if the universe was finally explained in the deepest depths of secrets that only they knew. Everything finally made sense, colliding into one entity with the knowledge and vastness of every atom smashing into one another, like the Big Bang. They were no longer Clarke and Lexa. They were a single person finally whole for the first time, mind meeting body, meeting soul. Clarke belonged to Lexa and Lexa belonged to Clarke. She gasped with the pressures of Lexa’s searching reach. 

How beautiful and strange it was that the earth finally collided with the sky. They were always at an arm’s length, just out of reach, searching for one another through every life from the beginning of time. Lexa was left to wander the world always slipping through the cracks, remembering everything. And, Clarke was left to wander the heavens and seas until she found the life where Lexa would return. It was only fitting that she never stopped searching, but finally, finally...

Clarke’s phone began to violently buzz interrupting their sweet intoxication, without having a drop to drink. Clarke lunged to take it, but Lexa grabbed her forearm, chuckling while pinning it above her head. Clarke leaned into her, lifting her head off the pillow, breathing in her essence. The phone violently buzzed once again. Lexa fell limp overtop of her, burying her face in the crane of Clarke’s neck. 

“Must they call all the damn time.” She murmured in muffled creaks, smiling in Clarke’s exposure. She leaned toward the nightstand, grabbing the silver screen buzzing in her palm. She set it back down, returning to the Heda.

“Work.” As if they both didn’t know it was. Clarke was the best damn doctor Arkadia had. With the recent attacks on the city, she needed to save her people, making sure the injured were okay. Lexa cradled herself, balling up in Clarke’s embrace. She squeezed her hard, not wanting to let go, but she knew duty outweighed her needs, no matter how much just existing with Clarke in that dimly lit room was appealing. 

“Go.” She rolled off of Clarke, who smacked her ass just to watch it jiggle. She giggled while it bounced. Lexa rolled her eyes. “Save our people.” Clarke sat upright, leaning in close to Lexa’s hot mouth, brushing her lip overtop of hers, but withholding the deep connection. She wouldn’t be able to leave if she did. 

“I do it every day.” She retracted, watching the Heda lean in, trying desperately to connect. She granted her a wink, while Lexa scowled, crossing her arms under her breasts. Clarke dropped her soiled boyshorts around her ankles while Lexa hungrily watched in a blooming blush. Her chest sunk deep into her stomach. Clarke sauntered toward the drawer, pulling out a folded, fresh pair Lexa kept for when she stayed over. She quickly slid on her wrinkled jeans from the floor, bouncing while pulling it over her rear. Lexa couldn’t keep her eyes off of this woman. She was going to be her wife, her forever through the good and bad. ‘What the hell did I ever do to deserve her?’ Lexa thought, observing the woman scrunch her messy locks into a bun. Her phone violently buzzed one more time. She answered the call. 

“Ai hod yu in. Be safe.” Lexa smirked. Clarke granted her a wink over her shoulder before closing the door behind her, pressing the phone to her ear. She pranced out of Lexa’s earshot, sliding on her shoes at the door, before exiting her apartment altogether. The person at the end of the line waited for her. Clarke cleared her throat.

“Roan, what have we got?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: 
> 
> I want to thank everyone who has read and stuck by with me in this fanfiction, no matter the hiccups and slow turnarounds, compared to the fast ones that came out. It was the first one I’ve written, and I wrote it to give myself a break from my lesbian novel, “Before the Dawn”. There were quite a few mistakes made, especially since I’m highly dyslexic, it was redundant at times, but I did capture the essence of Clexa’s eyebanging. I plan to make make future Fan Fictions, only this time, in script format instead of the pros style. My next work will be script of Lexarke, a full season of Queer the walking dead, followed by a sequel of Only You titled Always You. I hope you all will join me for some Lexark love in between a sequel to this one! 
> 
> Seriously, I want to really thank all of you who have liked, commented, shared, or just read, no matter how strange or weird you guys tried to get. Looking at you “I wanna lick your brain” person! You guys are the reason I kept going, and this is really for you! I wanted to tell a Clexa story, similar to the source material, but totally my own, and it is as much yours as it is mine! I was tired of the constant fluff pieces, so I wanted to give a stylistic approach to a comicbook style noir. I did not hold back, as many of you have said “I’m crying”, and I hope it was worth the pain and the happy moments. At least I did my job as a writer and made you feel something, and for that, i’m eternally grateful for the feedback.
> 
> Our Heda lives on in our hearts and our works no matter how hard SOME people tried to take that from us. I plan on writing for shows, so if you like what you read and want to see it put to screen, please follow me on twitter @jordanthieleman, and I will let you know when I’m sending my resumes to networks and shows. Hopefully I will write for you in canon, not just fan fictions of pieces. The audio book of Only You is coming soon and shall be on YouTube.
> 
> Again, thank all of you so much for enjoying my first ever fan fiction. I look forward to writing for you guys again, telling the same level of witty, gritty stories. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much! I love you all!  
> RoseBlood93/Jordan “Trelauni” Thieleman


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